


Where Have You Been?

by SundancerForLife



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Also a brother, BAMF Stiles, Death, F/F, F/M, Gen, Good Alpha Derek Hale, I don't know what I'm doing, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mature-ish, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Has a Sister, Stilinski Twins, Triplets, Twins, just go with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2018-05-14 21:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5760019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SundancerForLife/pseuds/SundancerForLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lone wolves never make it own their own.</p><p>Stiles and the pack have finally escaped the Nogistune and things are getting back to normal (as normal as things can be in Beacon Hills). But things get turned back on their heads just as quick as they settled. Stiles believes he's going crazy again as he catches continuous glimpses of a familiar face out and about in town. Is Stiles really losing it this time? Or is the Nogitsune back at work?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not, nor will I ever (I mean, more than likely not) own Teen Wolf. It is owned solely my MTV and their faculty.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Leave a comment and kudos if you like it (if you don't, just lie. It does wonders for my self-esteem).
> 
> xx.  
> -L

“You know, we can stay home.” Nora Greenly said, setting her bag down by the front door. Stella Greenly rolled her eyes and laughed. “I’m serious, Stella! We could stay home and go shopping or something.”

“Mom, I’m fine.” The blue-eyed brunette said, crossing her arms as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Her parents had wanted this vacation for months and finally her father had been convinced by his CFO that the company would not, in fact, spontaneously combust if he took some time off . There was no way in hell Stella was letting them miss this. She scooped up her mother’s carry-on and gently pushed it into her arms. “And Prada doesn’t belong on the floor.”

“Good to know you’re listening.” Nora said, kissing her daughter’s cheek. Stella returned the favor and hugged the middle-aged woman who definitely looked more like a sister than a parent. 'As if Beverly Hills would allow aging', Stella thought wryly. “Just, call if you need anything honey, okay? We can always fly back if you need-“

“Nora, please. She said to go.” William said, coaxing his wife towards the door. “The girl has spoken and Raj thinks we’re on our way. Private flight or not, this last minute trip is a favor.”

“I just-“ Nora sighed as her husband opened the door in hopes of getting the woman to a car. “Call, okay?”

“I will Mom.” Stella said, smiling. “I promise.”

Nora smiled and blew her daughter a kiss. William waved back and shut the door behind them. Stella let out a breath and made her way to the kitchen. She loved her mother, she really did. But sometimes it felt like the older woman always had to have some form of proof that she was really there. Stella knew her parents cared but it seemed like her mother was afraid she would disappear if she turned her back too long.

'Parents', Stella thought as she opened the fridge and pulled out her dinner. Jenny, their house person, had taken it upon herself to make sure the youngest Rucker always had a meal for dinner, whether it was a healthy salad or some gourmet lasagna. Stella smiled and opened the clear Tupperware container, revealing pasta salad and blackened chicken.

“She loves me.”  
“She loves me.”  
“She loves me.”

“Who?” Lydia startled out of her daydream at Malia’s question. The red head blinked, the room around her coming back into focus.

“Who what?” Lydia asked, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. Malia raised her own brows and slanted her head towards the girl as if she should know who.

“You said ‘she loves me’. I wasn’t sure if you were having a wet dream or a vision.” Malia answered, smirking. Lydia rolled her eyes, pulling the math textbook off of her lap.

“No, Malia, I wasn’t having a wet dream. Besides, if I were,” She said, sliding out of the chair she was occupying. “I wouldn’t be saying anything about love. I’d skip straight to the good parts.”

“Okay,” Malia said, following the girl trying to leave the room. She sidestepped her, blocking the doorway. “So it was a vision.”

“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.” Lydia said, ducking under Malia’s outstretched arm and heading downstairs. “Whatever it was, it isn’t important. She’s still not in any moral peril.”

“Still? As in you’ve seen her before?” Malia prodded. Lydia glanced at the brunette, sending a warning.

“No.” Lydia lied, knowing she’d already ruined any chance of escaping this interrogation. Now it was Malia’s turn to knit her eyebrows.

“So you’ve just been seeing some random person-“

“Girl.” Lydia said, sighing and sitting at an island chair and resting her head on her propped-up hand. “I’ve been seeing a girl. Just the one and it’s never anything more than her going about her normal life.  
Nothing out of the ordinary. No sharp teeth or scales, no venom. She’s absolutely normal and I don’t understand, Malia, God I just don’t understand-“

“Hey,” Malia interrupted, sensing the other girls growing hysteria. “I’m not Stiles. I’m not holding you while you cry so if you’re planning on losing it, let me know so I can call him.”

“I’m not going to lose it.” Lydia bit back, rolling her eyes and uncapping the water in front of her. “We have to work on your social skills. You’re practically a barbarian.”

“Stiles says I’m making progress.” Malia boasted, grabbing a water for herself. “So how long have you been spying on this chick?”

“I’m not spying, Malia. I can’t help it. One second I was helping your miserable, hopeless ass with trigonometric identities and then I was seeing her.”

“Whatever. How long?” Lydia finally made eye contact with Malia.

“Only a few days.” She said. “But it’s getting more frequent. I was just seeing her at night in dreams and now I’m day-dreaming about her. I don’t know why though. It doesn’t make any sense. There’s no reasoning.”

“Well, banshees predict death, right?” Malia asked. “Maybe the girl’s about to bite it.”

“Again, barbaric.” Lydia said, no malice in her voice. “I don’t feel like she’s going to die though. It’s not like that.”

“Have you told anyone else? Maybe Boy-Wonder? The one with the huge drawing board in his room? Constantly figuring things out and saving our asses?”

“No, I haven’t told Stiles.” Lydia answered, eyes drifting back to her water. “And I’d appreciate you keeping it that way. For now, at least.”

“Sure thing.” Malia replied. “I can’t wait to see how that blows up in your face.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, sipping her water tentatively. There had to be something about this girl if she was dreaming about her day and night. There had to be some kind of connection. Why was this Stella so important?

And why the hell did she seem so familiar?

 

“Where did I put it?” Stella asked herself. She turned over her pillows lying on her bed and pushed the cover back. “I can hear you!”

As she walked towards the door the ringing got louder and Stella looked down, seeing her purse by the leg of her desk. She reached inside, feeling for the vibrating object.

“Aha!” Stella cheered as she felt her fingers close around the metal. She brought her head up, forgetting she was under the desk as she hit answer. “Ow!”

“Stella?” Jason’s voice sounded through the speaker. “Hello? Earth to spaz.”

“I’m here dumbass.” Stella said, rubbing the back of her head. “I had to find my phone.”

“Right, you lose your phone and I’m the dumbass.” He replied. Stella rolled her eyes and fell back onto her bed.

“Yes, you are. Now what do you want?”

“Well, right to the point, huh?” Jason laughed, an undertone of nerve clear in his voice. Stella’s forehead creased, confused.

“Jase, you okay?” She asked. Jason sighed on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I just need to talk to you about something. And it’s important so don’t ask questions, alright?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Stella asked, beginning to worry.

“It’s not bad, I just need you to meet me.” He said. “Half Point in fifteen?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you there.” Stella hung up, already pulling her tennis shoes on. There were two things Jason Rucker just didn’t do: cry and get nervous. Considering the shakiness of his voice on the phone, Stella didn’t feel the need to ask questions. Not when her best friend sounded like that.

So fifteen minutes later Stella Greenly found herself pulling into a patchy grass spot near a tree, a place that had become as familiar and frequented by the two as her own house. Seeing Jason’s Jeep already empty Stella climbed out of her car and walked to the bench and sitting beside the reclined form.

“Hey.” She said, nudging his elbow with her own. He glanced in her direction and smiled, revealing a perfect white smile. “What’s up? You sounded weird on the phone.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Jason said, sitting up straighter and facing her. “I just, I found these and thought you should know about it. It felt wrong to lay it on you over the phone.”

“Lay what on me?” Stella questioned, her mind already racing to find the worst possible scenarios.

“This.” Jason pulled a portfolio folder from the other side of him, placing it in her lap. Stella looked up at him through her long lashes. He nodded and she opened it, seeing an array of papers. “I didn’t mean to find them. I had to grab a pen from Dad’s office and these were in the top drawer. I didn’t know how I should tell you or even if I should tell you. But I know I’d want you to tell me, so there it is.”

Stella stared at the paper, the words all melding together as her stomach plummeted. Her breath caught in her chest and she hiccupped. There was no way she was reading this right. Maybe she needed glasses or something because this wasn’t right this couldn’t be right.

“Stella?” Jason asked, putting a hand on her shoulder and pulling her from her thoughts. The breath she’d been holding escaped through her lips and her body seemed to deflate. She blinked up at him.

“I’m adopted?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****************SPOILERSSPOILERSSPOILERSSPOILERSSPOILERSSPOILERS**************************
> 
>  
> 
> Okay! So this story will be a mix of canon and non-canon events/people/relationships. For example, Isaac didn't leave after season 3. He stays. Boyd and Erica are still dead (*sigh* it's always the good and young) and so is Allison (*more sighs*). Danny stays. Aiden is still dead but Ethan stays (I will not support the separation of Danny and Ethan. I REFUSE.) I haven't decided if Peter will make an appearance or if he's going to take a spontaneous trip to Antarctica (Possibly permanent. That man CHAPS my ASS.)  
> I believe that's everything, so enjoy, thanks for reading and please comment what you think!!
> 
> XX.  
> -L

           “What do you mean?” Scott asked, opening his locker and grabbing his English textbook. Stiles squinted his eyes in that way that always made Scott feel like he was being given an answer and completely overlooking it.

           “I mean, what’s going on with you and Kira?” Stiles replied. Scott finally nodded before his forehead creased again.

           “Yeah, I don’t know.” Scott said, walking up the stairs to B hall. “We are, but we aren’t? That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

           “Yeah, no, that doesn’t make any sense.” Stiles clapped Scott on the back. “But good luck, dude.”

           “Thanks.” Scott laughed, shaking his head and walking into his first period class.

           After listening to his teacher’s hour-long, soporific praise of  _ The Crucible _ and his PreCal teacher confusing the hell out of him with trigonometric functions, Scott headed to the cafeteria for lunch. He smiled and nodded at Kira and Malia after spotting them at a table near the window.

           “Hey.” He said, nodding at them and noticing the absence of a certain hyperactive teenager. “Where’s Stiles?”

           Malia shrugged, poking at her carrots. “I think he said needed to check on something in the library.”

           Scott shook his head and pulled out his sandwich. The library was  _ exactly _ the thing that would keep Stiles from lunch. He grabbed his phone and sent the other boy a text, because he knew Stiles and ‘checking on something’ usually turned into obsessing over something and he would forget that he had basic needs for survival, like  _ food _ and  _ sleep _ . Scott wasn’t sure how the kid had made it this long with the hours he put into helping Scott and the others figure things out, but he was certainly glad he had. God only knows where they’d be without Stiles.

 

***

           Stiles walked into the library, flashing his card at the librarian. She smiled and waved him past her desk, returning to the book in her lap. He headed straight for the bookshelves labeled ‘Science’. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he sighed, grasping the vibrating metal and pulling it out.

_           ‘Hey, we’re at lunch. Are you coming?” _ Scott had sent.

          ‘ _ Yeah, just need to check up on something. _ ’ Stiles pocketed his phone and returned to the bookshelf he had been looking at. “Okay, R 147, R 151, R156… Dammit.”

His phone went off again.

_          ‘Something supernatural?’  _ It said. Stiles laughed humorlessly.

_          ‘Surprisingly no. Biology.’ _

           The youngest Stilinski sighed, running his finger through his hair and no doubt mussing it up. This was a school library and it didn’t seem to house a single book on genetic bioengineering. How was he going to pass biology if he couldn’t find a single book on his topic of choice for the semester project? Where do all those public funds go, anyways?

_           Fixing the school you guys keep breaking _ , Stiles thought, sighing again as he answered his own question. He’d have to check the public library later, after he and Scott went to the loft to check on Derek, who hadn’t been answering any of the pack’s texts since yesterday. Scott had wanted to go the previous but Stiles convinced him that Derek was probably  _ wanting _ to be alone right now and he’d probably kill the alpha for interrupting any of that alone time. An entire day of ignoring everyone was starting to seem excessive. Surely Derek could hold his own if something happened…

          His phone buzzed a second time. ‘ _ You might wanna hurry. It’s chicken tender day. _ ’

          He forfeited the thought when his stomach began to protest the lack of food and the thought of chicken tenders. He made his way to the cafeteria, thinking maybe someone had heard from the blue-eyed wolf today.

 

***

 

          The rest of the school day dragged on, and Stiles was more restless than usual during seventh period. He began tapping his pencil, then switched to tapping his foot when the teacher threatened to hurl a book at him. He was up and moving as soon as the bell rang and booked it to his Jeep. He stopped short, however, when he collided with a rock solid figure.

         “Dammit Isaac!” Stiles said, blinking up at the still-standing boy. It was unfair the impeccable balance the wolves were awarded. “Next time, can you at least fall to make me feel better?”

         “Sorry, I was looking for Scott.” He said, extending a hand and hauling the other boy up. “You seen him?”

         “Me? See my best friend over the course of seven hours while occupying the same 1,000 square feet? No, can’t say I have.”

         “Okay, smartass.” Isaac grinned. “What’s got your panties in a wad?”

         “Nothing, I’m just not overly fond of being knocked over by an inattentive werewolf on my way to my car, is all.” Stiles said, walking past him and throwing his bag in the back of his Jeep. He opened the door and jumped in, only to jump again as Isaac was already in the passenger seat. “Hey Isaac, you need a ride?”

         “As a matter of fact, I do.” Isaac replied, not bothering with his seatbelt. Stiles rolled his eyes as he started the blue monster.

         “You know, werewolf healing takes longer when you’re thrown from a windshield at 50 miles an hour. A seat belt might not make it onto your long list of regrets.” Isaac just snorted, settling into a more comfortable position.

         “Are you going to Derek’s?” Isaac asked. Stiles glanced sideways at the wolf as he pulled out of the parking lot.

         “Scott and I were going to check on him later, since no one’s heard from him.” He answered, taking a left at the stoplight and continuing down the old downtown street. “Scott has detention, so I told him I would wait. But since you’re here…”

         “Am I supposed to be your valiant protector?” Isaac mocked, turning to face Stiles with a smirk. The other boy rolled his eyes yet again.

         “You’re not anyone’s valiant anything, pup.” Stiles said. “You couldn’t protect me from a paper cut. I’m just assuming you’ll want to fight anything with a face that jumps out at you and I’ll have time to run.”

         “Oh, so you’ll let me die? Not even try to fight?” Isaac questioned. Stiles hit the brakes hard as they reached the loft’s parking garage and turned to face Isaac fully.

         “Have you seen me? Like, have you ever looked at me at all?” Stiles asked. “I lose the battle against my locker at four times a day. I couldn’t win a fight against a toothpick.”

         “Valiant protector it is,  _ pup _ .” Stiles groaned and rolled himself out of the driver seat.

        “I bet you can’t win anything from underneath my Jeep.” He murmured, following the sweater-clad boy. Stiles rolled his eyes, developing a fear that the expression may become permanent.  _ It’s 65 degrees outside. _

        They took the elevator to Derek’s floor, stopping when they saw his door was slightly ajar. Isaac made a move to open it further when Stiles grabbed his arm.

        “You think Derek usually leaves his door open? He’s not exactly one to throw a block party.” Isaac blinked at him.

        “Yeah, which means something happened. So we should open the-”

        Isaac didn’t get to finish the remark before they both heard a shifting inside the loft. They shared a look and Isaac’s claws grew instantaneously. He placed a hand on the door, ripping it open in one solid movement, only to stop dead in his tracks.

       “Lydia?” He asked. Stiles shoved past him, seeing the red-haired girl standing in the middle of the room. She held a wooden box, clutched it to her chest with a pained look.

       “Lyd, what is it?” Stiles asked, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. She blinked out of her trance and met his eyes.

       “He’s gone.” She whispered, a tear falling from her eyes. Stiles pulled her towards him, tucking her head into his shoulder. “He’s gone.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo.  
> If you're reading this, please, DON'T hate me. I know it's been a while since I updated. But let me be the first to tell you, writing is HARD. Me reading over my work isn't the same as someone else reading it. I'm a perfectionist and I always feel like I'm not writing in the way that I want to or I feel like what I do write comes out sounding like a 10-year-old wrote it. So, I beg of you, grant me mercy.
> 
> Now, here's a chapter I really liked writing and I hope you enjoy reading. Thanks for sticking with this if you've been here since my first upload. And for the newbies, thanks for not bailing when you saw that TERRIBLE summary.  
> Anyways, enjoy. Comment what you think and let me know of your predictions/ suggestions/ anything else. Leave kudos if you like it because I can always use a confidence boost!
> 
> xx,  
> -L

            “I don’t understand.” Stella said, staring at the steaming mug of coffee in front of her. Jason had settled on tea, allowing it to cool before drinking it. “Why?”

            “Why did they adopt you? Or why didn’t they tell you?” Jason asked. Stella shook her head.

            “I don’t really care why they adopted me. I just can’t believe they’d keep this from me.”

            “Maybe they didn’t want you to think of yourself as someone else’s kid instead of theirs.” He offered. Stella shrugged.

            “I guess. But…” Stella trailed off, eyes moving across the table like she was watching something scurrying around it. She stood, grabbing her laptop from the dining room table where she’d last abandoned it. “Give me that file.”

            “Sir, yes sir.” Jason quipped, handing the manila folder over to Stella’s waiting grasp. “What are you gonna do?”

            “Research.” She said, already typing away at the keys furiously. Stella Googled the name Stilinski, coming up with a few vague articles and several Facebook pages. She huffed and did another search, tacking on Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital.

            “That’s the hospital you were born at, right?” Stella nodded.

            “That’s what the file says, so I guess- hello!” Stella exclaimed in victory when she came up with several articles specifically mentioning ‘Stilinski’. “I knew I’d find you, Sheriff Stilinski!”

            Stella trailed her eyes over the PDF of the first article, skimming the gory information. “Hospital Massacre… several dead… many wounded… no suspects…”

            “How does someone go after an entire hospital and leave nothing behind?” Stella shrugged again.

            “Maybe they were good.” Stella opened another article. “Boost in animal activity mystifies Beacon Hills… a hiker was found… one suspect… he was released due to insufficient evidence.”

            “Jesus, this town sounds like the setting for a really shitty horror film.”

            “Maybe it’s in the water.” Stella mused, then stopped. “Wolves?”

            “Huh?” Stella ignored him and read more of the article.

            “It says the animal attacks are thought to have been wolves.”

            “And that’s worth noting because…?”

            “There haven’t been wolves in California for like, 60 years or something.” Stella worried her lip, then stood. “I’m going.”

            “Going where?”

            “I’m going to Beacon Hills.”

            “You’re going crazy, is where you’re going.” Jason said. “This town sounds like Hell with a high school! You can’t go down there.”

            “I’m going, but my parents can’t know.” Stella looked at him, pulling the most pathetically pouty face she could muster. “Please cover for me. I have to figure this out. It’ll kill me if I don’t, you know that. Remember that case of scabies that hit the school when we were ten?”

            “How could I forget?” Jason shuddered. “I was itching my skin off for a week. And the amount of lotion…”

            “And do you remember how I figured it out?”

            “Yeah, you did. It was actually impressive-“

            “I know.”

            “-right up until you decided that breaking into the principal’s office to look at his attendance record sounded like a good addition to the operation. I was in detention for a week!”

            “Yeah, but we figured it out!” Stella said, making a wide gesture with her hands. “Well worth it.”

            “We have very different ideas of what is and isn’t worth a week after school with Mr. Graves.”

            “Whatever. This is different.” Stella said, and she meant it. “I’m going, and I would really appreciate it if you helped me out.”

            Jason sighed, long and heavy. Stella almost felt bad for him, having to constantly put up with her insane ideas and half-assed plans. Almost.

            “Fine.”

            “Thanks, Jace. I owe you so big!” Stella pecked him on the cheek and turned towards the stairs, ready to bolt up them. Jace caught her wrist, halting her. She looked at him, confused at his suddenly serious face.

            “Just… be careful, okay?” Stella smiled, warm and soft.

            “I will. I promise.”

            Jason nodded and Stella started up the staircase, barely registering the shutting of the front door. Stella glanced at her clock. She could make it to Beacon Hills by 4:00, then she could finally start getting some answers.

 

 

            “What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Scott asked, brows furrowed on his forehead. Stiles sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He was exhausted, and it was only 3:00 in the afternoon.

            “I mean gone, Scott, in the wind, absentee. He wasn’t here, but it doesn’t look he’d packed anything, so I doubt he’s just enjoying a breezy weekend in San Fran.”

            They were standing in the middle of Derek’s loft. Isaac was sitting on the couch, looking like the embodiment of a livewire, nerves keeping his leg moving as he rubbed his hands over his thighs repeatedly. Malia was sitting across from him, expressionless. She didn’t seem troubled, but she wasn’t happy either so Stiles considered it an improvement. Kira was at home, unable to escape her parents to join the pack. Liam and Mason were standing off to the side of Stiles and Scott, looking like they were waiting for instruction. And then there was Lydia.

            The red-head was sitting at the island in Derek’s kitchen, staring at the wooden box she had yet to open. Stiles didn’t understand how she could just stare at it for that long and not open it. Stiles was getting impatient for her.

            “And you’ve checked the entire building?” Scott asked, turning to Isaac and Malia. The two nodded.

            “His scent wasn’t anywhere, he was just gone. And not like he’d left, it just disappeared.” Malia replied.

            “Okay, maybe we should call Deaton.” Scott offered. Stiles snorted.

            “Why, so we can solve riddles for an hour?” He shook his head. We’re better off-“

            “I promise…” He heard from the kitchen. He spotted Lydia, looking dazed, almost as if she were drifting off.

            “What?” Stiles asked, walking over to her. “Lydia, what did you say?”

            “I promise…” She looked pained for a moment before her gaze cleared. Her eyes snapped up to Stiles’.

            “You promise…?” Stiles goaded. Lydia shook her head.

            “Sorry, I was just thinking out loud.” Malia appeared beside Stiles.

            “No, she had a vision. Same girl?” Lydia looked like she wanted to argue, but instead she pursed her lips and nodded.

            “What girl?” Stiles asked. Lydia shook her head.

            “I don’t know who she is. And no, I don’t know why I keep seeing her.” Lydia looked frustrated.

            “Okay. Was she in danger?” Lydia shook her head again. “Alright, so probably not about to die. You’ve seen her before? Is there anything that triggers it?”

            “No, it’s random.”

            “We can’t focus on her right now.” Scott said gently. “For now, she’s safe, right? We need to focus on Derek.”

            “Well, we don’t have a scent, and obviously he didn’t leave a note.” Stiles sighed, placing his hands on the island counter and leaning forward onto them. “Maybe we could-“

            Stiles didn’t get to finish his thought, cut off by movement in front of him.

            The box.

            It had shuffled closer to Stiles, moving towards him as if someone had tied a string to it and was trying to pull it off the granite. Stiles jumped back. He didn’t feel bad about it considering the wolves did the same thing.

            “Did that… did that thing just move?” Liam asked.

            “I’m gonna go with yes, it definitely just moved. Why did it move? Did you move it Lydia?”

            “No, I didn’t touch it.” Stiles nodded.

            “Well, that just about covers my quota of crazy for the day.” Stiles said, clapping his hands together. “I’ll check the library for anything that might help, and I’ll stop by Deaton’s on my way home.”

            “Um, what do we do with the magic box?” Malia asked. Stiles shrugged.

            “Lydia already touched it, so I don’t think it’s dangerous. Just, don’t open it. Not until I can ask Deaton about it.” Scott nodded.

            “Stiles is right. Sticking around here when there isn’t a scent or a trail isn’t going to do us any good.”

            “Isaac, Liam and Mason, you stick with Scott. Malia, stay with Lydia. Whoever took Derek may have only been after him, but until we can rule out mass-werewolf-kidnapping, everyone needs to stay on high alert.” Stiles said.

            “What about you?” Isaac asked. “Should you be alone?”

            “I’m going to public places, so I’ll be fine. Besides,” Stiles said, pulling his keys from his jeans. “My house has so much mountain ash you could probably reform the entire tree in my backyard. I’ll be fine.”

            “Keep your phone on loud, yeah?” Scott said. Stiles nodded.

            “Sure thing, boss.” Stiles winked while the other rolled his eyes. “I’ll call when I have something."

Stiles walked into the public library, flashing his card at the young librarian and thanking Heaven that the owner wasn’t around. She smiled and waved him past her desk, returning to the book in her lap. He headed straight for the science section. He’d flip this library upside down if he had to. He _needed_ this book for his report that he _really needed_ to pass the semester. He also really needed his brain to cooperate with him and he _needed_ Derek to be alright and they _needed_ the pack back together and he _really needed an Adderall_.

Stiles sighed and faced the bookshelf, eyeing the mass of non-fiction neatly stored away in alphabetical order. He began running his fingers down the spines of the books with authors whose last name started with ‘R’. R135, R138, R140, R149, R152.

“Aha!” Stiles cheered, wincing as he heard the librarian shush him from the other side of the shelves. “Sorry.”

He yanked the book from its space on the shelf, pausing only to double-check that what he had in his hands was, in fact, the book he needed. Sighing with relief he began to make his way to the check-out desk. He was just looking up to avoid running into a table when he caught a glimpse of familiar brown curls and pale skin. Stiles halted in the middle of the library, staring as the girl turned a corner into the archive section. The Sheriff’s son had to take several breaths before deciding he had actually taken _way_ too much Adderall. He shook his head and began to follow the girl, his inner curiosity winning over his urgency to finish his biology paper.

“Stilinski!” Stiles jumped half a foot in the air at his name being screeched. He turned to see the eldest librarian with a scowl on her face, her wrinkles receding into her face even deeper. “You going to just stand there, blocking the only fire exit or are you going to check out that book you’re greasing up with your fingers?”

“Greasing up? Really?” Stiles muttered, turning away from where the girl had disappeared and heading towards the desk, straightening up at the older woman’s throat clearing. “I’m _going_. For the love of all that is Holy…”

He walked to the younger, considerably _nicer_ librarian as the white haired woman began walking towards the corner he had been about to turn. Oh sure, _you_ get to see who she is, he thought bitterly. He glanced at the young brunette currently checking out his book.

“Hey, that girl that was just over here? Brown hair? What’s she doing in the archive section?”

“Not sure.” The young woman replied, handing him the heavy text. “She’s just filing through the city records. Looking for something, I guess.”

“Huh. Thanks.” He said, walking towards the exit. This shouldn’t be odd, considering she’s probably just some genealogy student or something, tracing a long-lost family member. But with Derek missing, Stiles thought _anything_ odd or out of place should be analyzed and then _microanalyzed_. He’d look at the yearbook from last year to see if she had been a senior at BHHS. And then he’d finish this damn paper and hopefully pass his junior year of high school.

***

Stella sighed for what felt the millionth time after speaking to the librarian about the town’s archives. Her spur of the moment decision to spend her Spring break in Beacon Hills searching for _anything_ that might tell her something about her biological parents was quickly becoming one of regret.

“Those archives don’t hold a lot of information on anyone or anything.” The young woman behind the desk informed her. “The obituaries and newspapers really pile up after a while and the owner kind of just tosses them when they start stacking up.”

“How far do they go back?” Stella asked hopefully. The librarian just shrugged.

“Your guess is as good as mine. The lady who owns this place doesn’t care for much other than screaming at the people who come in. She’s not really a record keeper.” She said, tucking herself comfortably back into her chair and returning to her book. “You’re more than welcome to check, though. All the files we have are back in that corner. You’ve got some time before we shut the doors for the evening.”

“Okay, thank you.” Stella said, attempting a kind smile. It wasn’t the other woman’s fault the owner decided to shred what could be her only hope of figuring out who the hell gave birth to her. And Stella, of course, _wasn’t_ getting pissed to all hell at every dead end she encountered. Because when even Google can’t give you an answer you keep your calm. _Everyone knows that_.

But complaining internally was doing no more than amplifying her frustration, so she breathed deeply and turned to find the archive section and hopefully, a glimpse of who Claudia Stilinski was. Her feet moved her body while her mind traveled, wondering where she could possibly go if this proved to be another dead end. She didn’t want to have to use people to snoop because people would talk. And if people talked this Claudia woman would most definitely hear, considering the small size of the town she inhabited. Stella sent up a prayer to whatever deity was listening that the newspaper clippings would give her _something_.

She had just turned the corner leading to the archives when she heard a high-pitched voice scream ‘Stilinski!’. Her feet halted at once as the name pierced her ears. _Stilinski_. Was she here? Was she the librarian? _No, too young_ , her brain rationalized. Stella took a deep breath and stepped to the corner she had just turned only to find an old woman scolding a teenage boy standing in the middle of the library. She eyed the teenager closely, noticing the brown hair and too-pale skin. Her brow furrowed. Now, he was _definitely_ too young to be her dad. How many Stilinski’s were in this town anyway?

“You going to just stand there, blocking the only fire exit or are you going to check out that book you’re greasing up with your fingers?” The woman continued, hands on her thin hips and eyebrows raised. The boy’s shoulders slumped as he began walking towards the check-out desk.

“Greasing up?” Stella asked, a giggle escaping her lips. “Really?”

Her giggles apparently weren’t as quiet as she thought they were and the old wretch focused her attention on the girl. Stella quickly turned the corner and made herself look _extremely_ interested in the newspaper clippings shoved in various boxes. The old woman walked around the corner with her chest puffed as if she were about unleash a second round of Old-Lady-Wrath on the young woman standing amongst the archives. Stella simply looked at her with wide, innocent eyes and flashed a smile.

“The librarian at the desk said she didn’t mind if I organized these for you. I’m writing a paper on how non-requited community service helps to develop children from Kohlberg’s conventional stage of morality to the post-conventional stage, based off of intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. I hope it’s not a problem?”

The woman paused and deflated, giving a simple nod as her brows crinkled together. Stella mentally patted herself on the back for actually reading the chapter for Psychology the night it was assigned. _Who knew Kohlberg would actually come in handy_ , she wondered, smirking.

“That Stilinski kid seems to be a real thorn for you ladies.” Stella spoke aloud, hoping the other woman was a stereotypical Over-Fifty-Gossip-To-Anyone-With-Ears kind of old person. Her shoulders almost visually relaxed as the owner threw her hands in the air.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. He’s always in here, hours at a time, yanking books from their shelves and just _littering_ them wherever he feels necessary. I swear, if he wasn’t the Sheriff’s son he’d probably be in a cell himself by now. He and his friends, always causing trouble. It’s ridiculous what those spoiled little brats get away with.”

“Really? You’d think with a cop for a dad he’d have some respect for the fine women of the city. You ladies seem to work so hard keeping this library in mint condition.”

“A cop for a father? Hardly!” She nearly screeched. “Sheriff Stilinski wouldn’t do a damn thing to that boy. Too soft on him, in _my_ opinion. But what do I know?”

“What about his mother? Surely she’d help to keep him in check?”

“Oh, no. That woman died years ago. Went crazy, I heard. Voices, people trying to kill her, that kind of thing. Probably not a real loss, from what I gathered from the whispers. She was a real burden on that family. No excuse for that boy’s behavior, though. He needs to grow up and quit throwing himself a pity party.”

Stella was taken aback by the woman’s cold words, though she didn’t show it. She just nodded and gave a small, _very forced_ smile.

“Well, I’m sure you’re a very busy woman. I’ll just start on these files. You won’t even know I’m here.”

The woman nodded, seeming to feel better now that she’d gotten _that_ off her chest. Stella grimaced the second she turned away from the teen. How could someone talk that way about someone else? I mean, he hadn’t tried to burn the place down. He left books out. Were librarians really _that_ wound up? Turning her attention back to the boxes in front of her, she opened the one labeled _Beacon Hills Chronicle- Obituaries_. Surely there was someone else in the town with the name _Stilinski_. A sister, cousin, _something_ , she hoped. She squared her shoulders and began sifting through the papers. She’d figure nothing out if she didn’t start looking through the massive boxes. Perhaps she could find something on the boy, if not her mother. She’d be pleased if she could find _something_ , period.

***

Stiles had just fired up his old jeep when his phone began buzzing in the passenger seat. He reached over and checked the caller ID.

“Scott?” Stiles answered.

“Yeah, Stiles. It’s me.” The werewolf replied, his voice echoing through the phone.

“Anything on Derek? Isaac said you guys would check the woods near the loft while I was at the library.”

“Yeah, no. We haven’t found anything.” Scott said. Stiles winced as the answer rang back through his ear.

“Dude, are you in a cave?” He asked, turning onto the main road. “The echo is terrible.”

“How’d you-“

“Scott!” Isaac’s voice sounded through the speaker.

“Yeah! Hey, man, I gotta go. I’ll catch you at the hospital later, okay? We’ll check on that body.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Stiles said, dropping the call. He turned onto Cumberland Drive and hit his breaks as a blue car cut him off. “What the fuck- watch where you’re going Dickweed!”

Stiles blared his horn as the guy in the little sports car reached his hand out his window to flip the teenager the bird. Stiles huffed.

“Yeah, cut _me_ off and somehow it’s _my_ fault. Asshole.” Stiles muttered, picking up his speed again. He drove into town with a hankering for a big greasy burger and Probably-Give-Him-A-Preemptive-Heart-Attack fries, and there was only one place to get that.

He pulled his pale blue monster into a parking space near the door of the little diner. He’d used to come here with both his parents after little league games. Stiles hated the sport and he never won anything other than a participation trophy but seeing his dad smile as his son held the bat _just_ the way he’d taught him to wasn’t something the young boy had wanted to chase away, so he suffered through the games and all three of them would go out for lunch and Stiles would even get ice cream that Claudia would order while his dad was in the bathroom.

Stiles smiled as he hopped out of the Jeep and turned to begin the short trek to the diner door when a flash of white and brown caught his eye. He jerked his head around so fast he was sure he’d heard a _crack!_ and spotted Mysterious Library Girl across the street. She held a cup of coffee in her pale hand and her brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail that was just shy of being too short to look anything but weird. Stiles furrowed his eyebrows as she walked down the street, away from him. _God, she looks just like-_ Stiles stopped the thought before it had the chance to grow into something more dangerous. He began to walk across the street and jumped back as he heard a horn honking. His feet had just touched the sidewalk as a school bus flew by. Stiles’ heart was pounding so loud he nearly forgot what he was crossing the street for.

When he looked back up, she was gone.

Stiles ran a hand through his hair. What the hell was happening to him? It couldn’t possibly be the Nogitsune, could it? They’d killed it, Stiles watched it die. It was impossible. The boy’s breathing began to pick up to an unnatural pace and he scrambled to calm himself. Was he sick? Maybe he did have FTD and the Nogitsune was just amplifying it.

“No.” Stiles whispered, stumbling back to his car and throwing himself inside. “Stiles, breathe. Just breathe.”

He held his hands on either side of his head, raking his hair. He needed to slow his heartbeat and his rapid breathing before he suffocated himself. _In three seconds, hold for three, release for three_. _In for three, hold for three, out for three. In, hold, out. In, hold, out._

Finally, Stiles felt in control enough to start his car and head to the hospital. He’d be there before Scott but he didn’t care. He’d chat Melissa up if he had to,or read those terrible pamphlets the staff laid out for waiting patients.

He needed to do something to distract him from seeing his dead mother prancing around town.

*** 

Scott arrived at the hospital before Stiles, surprisingly. He walked in to find the young wolf talking with the eldest McCall with a smile on both their faces. Scott’s head snapped towards the hospital entrance as he smelt Stiles. Stiles just gave him a look that said, _If you value our friendship and my sanity, you won’t ask me why I reek of distress and maybe a little like piss_. Scott just nodded and turned back to his mother.

“Good. You’re here so I can tell you both I’m _not_ letting you into the morgue.” She said, writing something on a chart. “You boys see enough dead bodies as it is.”

“I know, Mom.” Scott said, becoming exasperated. “But we have to know exactly what they put on his paperwork. What did they put down for the C.O.D?”

“Asphyxiation.” Melissa said, picking up a stack of folders and walking out from behind her desk. “Now, why is it so important you know what they put down if you know what really happened?”

“Because we’re trying to keep things from looking too suspicious, what with Dad in town and everything.” Scott answered. Stiles nodded in agreeance.

“Especially since he’s been breathing down my Dad’s neck the past two weeks.” Melissa looked at the boys with the most Mom-like expression she could muster.

“I know it’s been tough for you boys, but sometimes us adults know what we’re doing, okay?” Both boys nodded. “Now go. Get some dinner, do your homework. I’d say don’t do drugs but I think Stiles has got that covered enough for both of you.”

“Yes mam, Mrs. McCall, but only on days that end with ‘y’.” Stiles smirked and Melissa kissed Scott’s cheek.

“Get out of here.” She said, eyeing them affectionately. Scott and Stiles began walking down the hall when the werewolf stopped suddenly.

“What?” Stiles asked, putting a hand on the other boy’s shoulder and assuming the worst. “What is it? Do you smell something? Is it blood?”

“What? No.” Scott said, turning. “I forgot to ask my mom something. And blood? It’s a hospital, dude. Calm down, I’ll be right back.”

“Calm isn’t exactly an emotion I like to get too comfortable with!” Stiles called after the wolf. “Not around here, anyway.”

Stiles turned and kept walking, making a right towards the elevator. He was almost to the elevator when he heard a voice say his name.

“ _Stilinski_.” Stiles turned to see the brown-haired girl standing at the nurse’s station, the same one he’d seen at the library. Stiles breath hitched in his chest as he looked closer. _Who the hell was this girl?_

The girl chose that moment to turn toward Stiles and his jaw went slack. His eyes widened and narrowed as he took in the girl’s features. Before he had the chance to register anything a solid force collided with him, sending him to the ground.

“Stiles?” Scott asked, confused. “Why were you standing in the middle of the hall?”

The boy in question looked up hurriedly, searching for the mystery girl and finding nothing.

“Dammit Scott!” Stiles moaned, holding his chin where it smacked the floor. He picked himself up off the ground and looked around once again, trying to catch a glimpse of dark brown hair. “I lost her.”

“Lost who?” Scott asked. Stiles kept walking, shaking his head.

“I don’t-“ He paused, stopping to look Scott in the face. “I think I’m losing it, Scott. Really losing it.”

“What do you mean?” Scott questioned. “Stiles, what’s going on?”

“I-“ Stiles stopped himself. He knew what it would sound like if he said what he’d seen, what he’d _been_ seeing all day, and he also knew that his best friend still eyed him caution throughout most of their interactions since the Nogitsune. He sighed and shook his head again. “I’m just tired, man. I need 12 hours of sleep and then 12 more after I wake up.”

“Pretty sure that’s a coma, Stiles.” Scott said, smiling. Stiles hummed.

“Sounds festive.” Scott laughed and knocked his shoulder. “Hey, no damaging the goods! Especially not when these goods are your way home, asshole.”

“Then I guess I’ll be fine.” Scott said, heading towards the tree-line instead of Stiles’ Jeep. “I’m gonna run, meet up with Isaac and scope the woods. Maybe we’ll find something.”

“Keep me updated!” Stiles replied, watching Scott’s disappearing form. “And try not to get distracted by the bunnies!”

Stiles shook his head and turned to unlock his Jeep when he caught sight of the girl, the one who looked so much like his mother. She was in a nice black car, pulling out of the hospital lot. Stiles only spared a second to think _bad idea, fragile human, abort, abort!_ Before his less rational, more curious side got the better of him.

He pulled out behind her and started following.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit.  
> It's been waayyyyy too long. Please don't hunt me down. I've been super busy since I graduated high school and started up with college (biochemistry as a pre-med student is a straight up bitch, in case you wanted my opinion, which you probably didn't).  
> So yeah, I'm really sorry about that. But! I'm on spring break now so I'm hoping to upload a couple more chapters this weekend, and I'm going to try to update a little more regularly.  
> Again, please don't hate me.
> 
> -L

He should have brought Scott.          

            Stiles followed behind from a safe distance, trying not to think of what Scott would say if her were there. Or his dad. Or Lydia.

She led him through town, towards the downtown portion. She pulled into a hotel parking lot. He wondered if he could take her on his own- after all she was pretty small. But then he remembered Lydia and decided to dial Scott’s number instead.

            “Stiles?” Scott asked. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

            “I’m fine. Well,” Stiles recounted the day’s events. “I’m safe. But I need you to meet me at the old Broadway hotel in town. Soon. Like, 5 minutes ago soon.”

            “Why?” Scott asked. Stiles rolled his eyes.

            “I’ll explain when you get here, but I need you to speed up the process a little bit. Time’s a-wasting, you know. Time is getting wasted currently, so hurry your little werewolf ass- Jesus Christ!”

            Scott stood outside his Jeep, eyebrows drawn together in concern but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. Stiles got out, slamming the door behind him.

            “You’re such an asshole sometimes.” Scott smiled at him.

            “So, what’s going on? Why are we standing outside of a hotel?”

            “Because, Scotty boy,” Stiles replied, clapping a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “We’re gonna figure out why some random girl, who looks exactly like my mother, by the way, is in Beacon Hills asking questions.”

            “Please tell me we’re gonna do this legally, Stiles.” Stiles made a face.

            “How do you feel about breaking and entering? For the greater good!”

            “I feel like it’s illegal!” Scott replied, following the slighter boy in the direction of the building.

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            Stella sighed as she eyed the wall in front of her. She’d taped up a piece of paper stating that Jason’s father had been the lawyer his parents had used in the adoption right beside the picture she had of the only Stilinski that had a face to put with the name at the moment. There was a post-it note with the name she’d uncovered at the library, _Mieczyslaw_ , followed by a question mark. She blinked for a moment before adding another post-it.

 _Claudia Stilinski- Deceased_. Stella was sad that she’d never meet her biological mother, even though she tried convincing herself that it didn’t _matter_. She had a mom, a mom who had always loved her unconditionally and gave her a childhood most kids could only dream about.

            So why did she feel like she had to find out? What made her drive over two hours to a town that sounded like the setting of a slasher film? Why did she want to know about a family who hadn’t wanted her?

            She shook the thoughts from her head, walking into the bathroom. While she applied moisturizer to her face she heard a sound like metal being jiggled. She realized it was the door to her room that was making the noises. Someone was trying to _break into her room_.

            She panicked and grabbed the first thing she could find- a metal bowl that the folded hand towels were placed. Discarding the fabric, she held it in position and waited. The door creaked open, and Stella could hear breathing. God, what if she had to kill this guy?

            “You smell anything?” A voice asked. Jesus Christ, she’d have to take two of them at once? What kind of universe fucks with a girl like that?

            “I can hear her heart beat. It sounds like it’s coming from over here.” Stella’s heartbeat picked up as the footsteps approached her hiding place. When it sounded like he was close enough, Stella jumped from the doorway and swung the bowl as hard as she could, hoping she’d hit something.

            And hit she did. There was a loud _crack_ as the metal connected with something solid. No, some _one_ solid. That was definitely a person. And he was holding his jaw, which had to be broken judging by the angle it was jutting out. Stella had seen something like that on TV the previous week about a man falling from a tree and-

            There was movement out of the corner of her eye and she chided herself. She needed to focus. She held the bowl out like she was brandishing a weapon.

            “Don’t move or I swear to God I’ll make it look like Hulk had a happy accident!” She said. She finally looked at the paler boy closely and realized it was the same guy who’d been at the library, hiding behind a shelf, and at the hospital, pretending he wasn’t listening. “Why are you here? Why have you been following me around all day?”

            “I don’t really think you get to ask the questions here.” The thinner boy quipped. He helped the other boy to his feet and steadied him. He was still holding his jaw but it looked…fine. There was no odd angle or disfigurement. Stella decided she’d probably gotten a hallucinogenic tossed into her salad earlier that day. She thought the girl behind the counter looked suspicious.

            “You broke into my hotel room, which is _illegal_ , I might add. I think I’ll ask any questions I want.”

            “Why are you asking about Claudia Stilinski? And what were you doing at the library today?”

            “Why were you following me around?” Stella countered. Stiles shrugged.

            “You first.”

            “I don’t think so.”

            “I do.” Stella laughed, a breathless sound. “You tell me why you want to know about Claudia Stilinski, and my friend and I will leave here. No harm, no foul.”

            “Seriously?” Stella asked, amazed. “Did you forget about the part where you _broke into my room_?”

            “Nope, surprisingly it’s still fresh in my memory.” Stella might kill him first. “Why are you asking questions?”

            “I thought that’s what _you_ were doing.” Stella retorted, looking bored. The tan boy covered his laugh with a cough.

            “I really don’t have time for this.” The boy said, pulling out his phone. “Answer my questions and this doesn’t have to end badly.”

            Stella couldn’t believe the nerve of the boy in front of her. Who the hell did this kid think he was? The other guy shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable. _Well_ , Stella thought, _I would be uncomfortable too if my friend pulled me into an illegal interrogation._

            “Listen, I don’t care what you think. I’m not here for some crazy, curious teenager who gets his rocks off by committing felonies. I’m here to figure out who Claudia Stilinski was, and you still haven’t convinced me _not_ to call the cops.”

            “I’ll leave as soon as you tell me what the hell you want with Claudia Stilinski.” He retorted, crossing his arms to mirror the girl.

            “Stiles, maybe we should just go. Your dad may not kill you, but I’m pretty sure I’m expendable.” He whispered. The boy didn’t even blink.

            “No Scott, I think maybe she should call the Sheriff. I believe that he’d be _overtly_ interested in some random girl doing extensive research on his wife.”

            “Wait, his wife? Sheriff Stilinski is…” She held a look of sudden realization as she turned back to her little wall of faces and lines. “Oh… _Oh._ ”

            “So, are we good here?” The second boy, Scott, asked. “You look like you’re pretty invested in whatever thought process is going on right now so we’re just going to-”

            Stella jerked back suddenly, reaching for papers sitting near the edge of her small desk. Stiles and Scott both jumped, unsure of where the girl was going with her spastic movements.

            “I just… Oh, that makes sense. But how…? _Oh_.” Stella conversed with herself. Stiles glanced sideways at the wolf beside him who held the same confused expression. “And… okay. Here, look at this.”

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            Stiles’ father was going to kill him if the girl in front of him didn’t take the bowl to his head. She was currently working her way through a stack of papers on the desk near the window. She stepped towards him, bowl replaced by what looked to be official documents.

            She thrust the stack of papers at Stiles with such force he nearly lost them to the floor. She walked back over to the wall and began connecting dots with her black marker. Stiles spared a glance at Scott who just shrugged and leaned over Stiles’ shoulder to peek at the papers. Stiles followed his line of sight and started reading.

            His vision bounced over the page, eyeing the areas with _adoption_ and _all parental rights_ and _Claudia Stilinski_. He blinked and stared at the signature. The C was big and the S was looped and it was his mother’s work right there in his hands.

            “What the hell is this?” Stiles asked, raising the hand holding the papers and then dropping back to his thigh. Stella narrowed her eyes as though she were trying to find the answer to her problem in his facial features.

            “Claudia Stilinski is… _was_ my mother. I was trying to find her.”

            “I’m… Mom didn’t… she would _never_ … This is impossible.” Stiles said shakily. There was no universe, no circumstance that would make Claudia Stilinski give up a child, especially not a _daughter_. His mom always wanted a little girl. Stiles never understood why his parents never tried for another. His mom would just smile and say it was better that way. “I’m calling my dad.”

            “Wait, you’re seriously calling the cops on _me_?” She asked. She remembered Scott. “And I know how hard I hit you with that bowl. Why isn’t your jaw broken?”

            “Well, I-“

            “None of your business.” Stiles snapped. His fingers were shaking as he held his phone in hand.

            “Wow, you’ve got some pretty big balls saying that to me.” Stella quipped. “It’s not like-“

            “Stiles?” His dad answered.

            “-you broke into my hotel room and started demanding answers! No, you wouldn’t do that, would you? Oh _wait_! You already did, you psychopath!”

            “…Hey dad.” Stiles responded. Sheriff Stilinski sighed.

            “Son, please tell me you’re watching a movie and what I just heard wasn’t said to you, directly, in person.”

            “Would that make you feel better?” Stiles asked.

            “For the love of God Stiles!” His dad said, exasperated. “What the hell did you do now?”

            “I’ll explain when I get there. Scott and I are coming, and we’re bringing someone with us.”

            “Like Hell you are!” Stella said.

            “Stiles, why on Earth are you trying to force a girl to come to the station? Why did you break in in the first place?”

            “I will have a satisfactory explanation when I get to the station.” Stiles said, then turned to Stella. “You’re coming, whether you want to or not.”

            “Yeah, I’m not taking orders from some gimpy little shithead that _broke into my hotel room_.”

            “Are we really going to dwell on that?” Stiles muttered.

            “Stiles, why exactly does she need to come to the station?”

            “Because,” Stiles said. “she’s been asking questions, questions she has no business asking about.”

            “Such as?” Sheriff Stilinski prodded.

            “Such as mom, who she happens to look just like.” His dad sucked in a breath.

            “Let me talk to her.” Stiles handed the phone over, and Stella eyed it before taking it in hand.

            “Hello?” She began. “Stella…No, but I know you have an insane son…Glad to know I’m not the only one…Yes…I can do that…Yes…Okay… Thank you, Sheriff.”

            Stella ended the call and handed Stiles back his phone. She crossed her arms.

            “I’ll come, but there’s not a chance in Hell that I’m riding with you.” She said. Stiles rolled his eyes.

            “Fine. But I hope you can keep up.” Stiles smirked. “Sheriff’s sons don’t get speeding tickets.”

            “I’d like to see you try to lose me.” She replied, grabbing her keys and walking out the door. Stiles caught Scott’s eye, and the other boy shook his head.

            The drive was quick, and he didn’t lose Stella. Apparently, she wasn’t afraid of a ticket either. They pulled up to the station, Stella walking in behind Stiles with Scott trailing behind her. Stiles didn’t pause at the front desk, bypassing it and opening the door to an office. Stella entered slowly, catching the attention of the man in uniform across the room. He had a coffee mug in his hand, which he promptly dropped back to his desk. He stared for a moment before sagging in his chair.

            Stiles really hoped he wasn’t digging an early grave for his dad.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter. I'm probably going to upload one or two more chapters this weekend before I have to go back to school and then I'll be out for the summer and this damn thing is getting FINISHED. I solemnly swear.  
> I've also changed my mind about Peter. He's a smart-ass and I've actually come to like his character (minus the homicidal tendencies and power-hungry urges).  
> Leave comments pleeeaaasee!
> 
> -L

Sheriff Stilinski had seen some things in his life that could make the sanest man lose his mind. Werewolves, Japanese demons, a Darach. But none of that could ever prepare him for the girl standing right in front of him.

            Stiles was right- she looked _exactly_ like Claudia had when Noah had first met her. Young, beautiful, with light creamy skin and dark silky waves. She even had the same eye color as his wife. He shook his head.

            “You said your name was Stella, right?” The girl nodded. Stiles and Scott stood side-by-side near the door, watching the two of them. “Stella, I’m not sure how this happened, but you must be confused with a different person. My wife and I had one child, that’s it.”

            “Is there another Claudia Stilinski in Beacon Hills?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Because if there is, then please point me in her direction and I’ll go.”

            “No.” Noah sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and trying to keep his emotions in check. The girl even _sounded_ like Claudia. “I don’t know how-“

            “Do you see this paper?” She asked, shoving the white sheet into his hands. “That’s the official California state seal of approval. It’s required for every adoption, and you can’t forge it.”

            Noah looked it over. He noted the signatures at the bottom. When he met Stiles’ gaze, the younger Stilinski was stoic, void of any expression. “This signature-“

            “Looks just like hers. I know.” Stiles replied. Scott shook his head.

            “I thought both parents had to sign off on an adoption.” Stiles and Stella both answered simultaneously.

            “Not in California.” They stared at each other with a barely contained anger in their eyes until Noah cut in.

            “I don’t understand this.” The girl was a spitting image of his Claudia, right down to the moles. It was uncanny to say the least. “How did you come across this… information?”

            “My best friend’s dad is the one who officiated the adoption.” She replied, fingers twitching in the same fashion that Stiles’ did when he’d forgotten to take his medicine. “He found the file in his office and gave it to me.”

            Sheriff Stilinski looked over the girl’s shoulder to Scott, eyebrow raised. The wolf nodded. She was telling the truth.

            “Okay.” Noah said, rubbing the back of his neck before nodding. “Okay. I’m not going to lie, I’m confused as all hell, but I believe you.”

            “Seriously?” Stiles asked. He looked between the girl and the Sheriff. “Call Melissa. We need a DNA test.”

            “That’s a good idea.” Stella said, nodding. “I would consent to a DNA test.”

            “Alright.” He turned to Scott. “Call your mom, see how busy the hospital is. Tell her it’s an off-the-record thing.”

            “Sure.” Scott turned to step out of the office, phone at his ear.

            “Stiles, you’ll come to the hospital, too.” Stiles scoffed.

            “What, you need proof for me too?” He asked, hand over his heart. “That hurts, Dad.”

            “No, you’re my son.” Sheriff Stilinski sighed. “Somedays…”

            Stella smiled, a small unsure thing, and then it was gone. The Sheriff gave a small smile himself, remembering the dream his Claud had for a bunch of bickering kids one day. He knew she would be over the moon for the two in front of him. Something might be insanely wrong here, but he would hang onto this for now.

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            “Well,” The nurse, Melissa, said, bagging the DNA samples. “We should know by tomorrow, depending on how easy it is to bribe the new tech. Until then just sit tight and I’ll call as soon as I know something.”

            “Thanks Melissa.” The Sheriff said, and Stella nodded.

            “Thank you.” She echoed. Melissa smiled at her.

            “Anything for the Stilinski family.” Stiles coughed at that, and Stella rolled her eyes. Did he think she liked this anymore than he did? She saw the Sheriff cuff his son on the back of the head. Melissa smiled fondly, then turned to Scott.

            “We are going to have a very long discussion about your willingness to go through with Stiles’ ideas. But for now, go home, eat some dinner and get some sleep. You’ve got school tomorrow.”

            Scott didn’t answer, although his eyes held something akin to fear. Stella didn’t blame him- Melissa McCall was small and slight, but she could tell the mother would probably be the star of one of those news headliners about a mom who’d lifted a car off her son. He kissed her cheek and sent a small wave to the rest of them.

            “I’ve got to get back to my shift, but I’ll call you.” Melissa said, placing a hand on the sheriff’s shoulder. He nodded his thanks. She gave a hard look to Stiles, who grinned at her, before ruffling a hand in his hair. “Quit trying to make my son into a delinquent.”

            “It’s on my to-do list.” Melissa rolled her eyes and left the room. The sheriff turned to Stella.

            “I know you have a hotel room, but you’re more than welcome to stay with us if you-“

            “Dad!” Stiles exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “We have no idea who this girl is! She could be a psychopath!”

            “You keep forgetting that you broke into _my_ hotel room.” Stella replied. “If anyone should be on guard here it’s _me_.”

            “That’s-“ Stiles paused. “…fair.”

            “I’m fine at the hotel.” Stella said swiftly.

            “And your parents?” Stella shook her head.

            “They’re on vacation right now.” She said, then quickly added, “but they totally know where I am.”

            “Uh-huh.” Sheriff Stilinski didn’t look convinced, and Stella caught the fond look he sent in his son’s direction. “Well, here’s my card. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”

            “Thank you, Sheriff.” She said, a smile on her lips. She glared at Stiles as she moved towards the door. “Next time I’ll hit you with the bowl.”

            “I’m looking forward to it.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Stella thought it still looked suspicious. She continued her way out of the hospital, getting in her car. She was exhausted, and any questions she had could be attacked tomorrow.

            When she climbed in bed that night, it was with a metal bowl sitting on top of the pillow beside her.


	6. Chapter 6

            Stella woke the next morning feeling disoriented, a light buzz under skin. The bed felt unfamiliar and the sheets weren’t as soft as they usually were. Then she remembered why it felt unfamiliar- it wasn’t her bed. She was in a hotel. Alone. In a town where, apparently, suspicion is cause for breaking and entering.

            She shook her head, thinking of the boy she’d met, Stiles, and his father. Despite the fact that the kid was obviously crazy, Stella liked him. He was a skinny kid with a smart mouth- Stella could relate to that. She filled a glass of water in the bathroom sink and threw back her Adderall. She knew she would need it today; she’d forgotten to take it yesterday morning before school and she’d been unable to follow a solid train of thought for longer than a few minutes and sitting still was absolutely lost on her.

            Her phone was loaded with notifications. She scrolled through them idly.

            _2 texts from Mom_

_1 missed call from Mom_

_6 missed calls from J-Man_

_10 texts from J-Man_

_3 new voicemails from J-Man_

            She rolled her eyes and sent Jason a quick text.

            **To: J-Man**

_I’m fine. Service sucks out here. I’ll call you later._

            **To: Mom**

_The beach looks good on you! Send lots of pictures. Love you!_

            At least if she died before she made it back to Beverly Hills, someone would come looking for her. She threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, shrugging into a cozy cardigan she’d snatched from Jason the day before. It was unusually chilly for August in California. Before she could do anything else, she caught sight of something in her peripheral vision.

            The Sheriff’s card.

            She chewed her lip, considering calling the man. She didn’t _need_ anything, really. She could call under the guise of not knowing what places in town were good to eat or something equally mundane. But in reality, she just wanted to see him again. He reminded her a lot of her dad, crinkly eyes and a warm smile. The Sheriff looked more tired though.

            She decided against it, instead pulling out her laptop to do more research. She’d just have to wait around until the nurse called to either confirm or deny the blood relation between her and the two Stilinski’s. She wondered about them, how they lived, if they fought a lot. She didn’t ever fight with her parents. The two eldest Greenlys’ were insanely level-headed and instead of arguing, they’d simply put the matter up for debate. That was one of the things she loved about her mom and dad- they were never cross with her. Albeit, she never really gave them reason to be. She was a good student and, aside from a few misguided adventures that had been borderline illegal, she was a good kid.

            She was yanked from her thoughts by the shrill ring of her phone. She slid right and put it up to her ear.

            “Hello?” There was a shuffle on the other end of the line.

            “Stella?” It was the sheriff. She stiffened.

            “This is she.” She replied, cringing when she realized she sounded exactly like her mom did whenever she answered the phone regarding work.

            “It’s Sheriff Stilinski.” He said, and there was more shuffling in the background. She heard a thump and a muffled, ‘ _That’s what you get_.’

            “Is everything alright?” She asked.

            “Everything’s fine.” He answered. “Melissa got us the results, I figured you’d want to be here when we opened them.”

            “I appreciate that, Sheriff.” Stella was already slipping on her shoes. “Am I meeting you at the police station?”

            “Actually, Stiles and I are at the house. We thought-“ More shuffling and muted hissing from someone near the Sheriff. “ _I_ thought you might want to have some breakfast. Stiles makes the best eggs and bacon in Beacon Hills.”

            “You sure it’s not poisoned?” The Sheriff laughed.

            “Don’t worry, I watched him cook it. It’s safe.” Stella smiled.

            “That sounds nice. Thank you.”

            “I’ll send you the address.”

            “Alright.” Stella nodded to herself. “I’ll see you then.”

            She pulled up to a modest two-story house twenty minutes later. The light blue paint on the outside was somewhat faded, chipping in some areas more than others. There were two cars already parked outside, a cruiser and a beaten old Jeep that Stella was positive was older than her, and possibly her parents.

            She parked on the curb, then took a minute to brace herself. She could do this, it would be fine. What’s the worst that could happen? She was wrong?

            Stella shook her head and got out of the car, shutting the door behind her. Her hands were sweaty, and she wiped them on her jeans. Steeling herself, she marched up to the door and knocked three times.

            It was Stiles who opened the door, looking just as suspicious as he had the previous night. She smiled at him, all white teeth and innocence.

            “Stiles.” She nodded at him, peaking over his shoulder.

            “Stella.” He replied, expression unchanging. She rocked back on her heels.

            “You gonna let her in, son?” Sheriff Stilinski called from further in the house. Stiles looked like he really wanted to say no.

            “He’s just showing me the front porch.” Stella retorted. “It is a lovely front step, probably the nicest I’ve seen in the town. Exquisite work.”

            “We know.” Stiles snapped, then walked back towards what Stella assumed was the kitchen, leaving the front door open. Stella closed it behind her.

            “Sheriff Stilinski.” Stella smiled at him. He was sitting at the dining table, nursing a cup of steaming coffee. “Thank you for inviting me.”

            “It’s our pleasure.” Stiles snorted at that. “Ignore my son and his lack of manners. Apparently, he was raised by wolves.”

            “Nope.” Stiles sent a smirk to his father. “I just run with ‘em.”

            “Anyways,” The sheriff continued, ignoring the boy. “I thought I’d let you open it.”

            “Why?” Stella and Stiles asked at the same time. They shared a look then turned back to Noah.

            “Because, you traveled all the way out here on a whim. I think you have the right to see the results first.” Stella gave a nod and accepted the manila envelope offered to her. She took a deep breath and reached in, pulling out a single piece of paper.

            The results were simple enough to decipher, even if she hadn’t taken a summer course in genetics the previous year. The DNA markers were laid out side by side, one lane for each of the Stilinski’s and her. Her eyes glided over the genetic markers that were highlighted in each row. She settled her gaze on the result summary at the bottom of the page.

            “ _99.99_ …” She whispered. She glanced up at aged blue eyes, handing over the paper without a word. Sheriff Stilinski took it, reading over it himself.

            “I…” He trailed off. Stiles snatched it from his father, eyes scanning it. A variety of emotions danced across his features.

            “So, it’s true?” Stiles asked, voice small. Stella nodded, glancing between the two men. “She’s really…”

            “It’s true.” Sheriff Stilinski answered. “But it’s impossible.”

 

 

            Stiles didn’t want to correct his dad, because this change… it was big. But he also couldn’t argue with science. The proof was in his hands.

            “Dad…” He started. “I’m the last person who wants to believe this, trust me, but-“

            “It’s not possible,” His dad said. “because she died. They both did.”

            “Both?” Stiles sputtered. His dad nodded.

            “Why don’t we all sit down and talk?” Dad asked. Stiles ran a hand through his hair. Why? Why was this his life?

            He settled into a chair on the right of his dad, Stella taking the one on his left. He studied his dad, the lines on his face and the exhaustion in his eyes, and he felt awful for him. Stiles had dragged him through hell for the past two years, with the werewolves, Jackson, the Darach, the Nogitsune. After all of the supernatural craziness, he was getting hit with this. If the universe kept conspiring against him, Stiles wouldn’t have to worry about a strict diet- his dad would drop dead of a heart attack within the year.

            “I think you should start from the beginning Dad.” Stiles tried to keep his voice even despite the coiling in his chest. Was he angry? Hurt? The only thing he knew was that he was confused beyond comprehension.

            “When your mom found out she was pregnant,” Dad began, looking at his hands. “She was so happy. She couldn’t stop smiling, I thought her face was gonna crack. She was practically bouncing when we went to her first appointment, so excited to be having a baby. Imagine her reaction when she found out she was having three.”

            “Triplets?” Stella asked, her voice soft. Noah nodded.

            “Claudia was over the moon. She started buying everything she could think of- furniture, clothes, toys. I had to set everything up because she grew so much so fast. She was still in charge, and let me tell you, that woman could give a drill sergeant a run for their money.” Stiles smiled at that. “When she finally went into labor and we got to the hospital, things started getting bad. Her blood pressure had been really high those last few months, and they told us the risks- hemorrhage, losing the kids, losing her… but she fought. She fought for all three.”

            “You said they died.” Stiles was only getting more confused.

            “Two did. A boy-“ His dad looked at Stella, his face unreadable. “And a girl. The nurses took all three into the NIC-U and they came back with one. They were still-born, the doctors couldn’t resuscitate them.”

            “Well, someone made a mistake somewhere.” Stella said. “Because I don’t feel very dead.”

            “I just don’t understand…” Noah said, rubbing his face with his hands. “I saw the bodies. I could never forget seeing that.”

            “Well, she’s very undead now.” Stiles said, waving towards the girl opposite him. “The DNA test was conclusive, she’s yours. But none of this explains why mom would sign off on an adoption for a kid that she was apparently ecstatic about having.”

            “And if I was put up for adoption, whose to say the other one wasn’t as well?” Stella asked. Stiles was wondering the same thing, and the questions were starting to crawl under his skin.

            “Something’s going on here, I know that much.” His dad said. “But if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that my wife, your mother, and I _never_ would have given you up, not in a million years.”

            Stiles and his dad both looked at the girl across from them, the one who looked so much like Claudia. She looked unsure but… hopeful. Noah stood up, pulling Stella with him. He held her at arm’s length, studying her face with a smile before hugging her tight around the shoulders.

            “You look so much like her.” The sheriff said. Stiles couldn’t exactly argue, Stella _did_ look exactly like his mom. The girl was sniffling into his dad’s shoulder and he was petting her hair. Stiles felt something loosen in his chest, seeing the two in front of him. He’d always wanted a sibling, a brother or a sister. Being an only child had been lonely, with his dad always at work. After his mom got sick he’d spent almost all his time at Scott’s house. It was like having a brother, and Stiles loved it. Now, here he was, a sister and possibly a brother, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that. He wasn’t sure what he _wanted_ to do with that.

            But seeing this girl, Stella, being held by his father, made him remember all the times he’d begged for a sibling. He would keep an open mind about this, give her the benefit of the doubt. Scott would be proud of him, he thought.

            Stiles was startled back into reality by a banging at the door. He nodded to his father, letting him know he would get it. He called out as he walked towards the front door.

            “Scott, I told you I would call you when-“ Stiles stopped cold as the door swung open. His eyes widened, and he took a step forward. “Derek?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Another chapter! Are those sleigh bells I hear? Because it must be motherfucking Christmas my dudes. But! I hope you enjoy it, regardless of what gift-giving season it is or isn't.
> 
> Again, sorry for being the worst at uploading. Please please please stick with me! I'm hoping to crank the rest of this out by the end of this month. I have a lot of big ideas for this story, so I hope you'll accept the all-expenses paid ticket to the roller-coaster ride.
> 
> Leave comments with suggestions and kudos if you like it!

            The alpha was battered, dried blood caked on his face. His clothes were shredded and his shoes were gone. Stiles stared for a moment, knowing how much he shouldn’t be surprised. Derek stumbled forward and Stiles caught him, slinging a muscled arm over his shoulder. He stumbled to the sofa, trying his best to be gentle while depositing the wolf.

            “Stiles?” His dad called, walking into the living room. He stopped short when he took in the sight on the couch. “Um, Stella, stay in the kitchen…“

            “Is everything okay-“ Stella gasped, hands flying up to her mouth. “Oh my God! Is he okay?”

            “He- uh, he’s fine, just has a bad habit of walking into… wood chippers.” Stiles sputtered. “You can go now.”

            “Aren’t you going to take him to the hospital?” Stella asked, still shocked. Stiles really couldn’t think of a more terrible time for a half-dead werewolf to collapse in his front room.

            “No.” Stiles replied, working to keep Derek awake. “He’s…”

            “He’s undocumented.” Stiles’ dad interrupted. Stiles met his gaze and nodded.

            “Can’t go to the hospital if you have no documentation, which he doesn’t have…because he’s undocumented.” He winced at himself, shaking the wolf lightly.

            “I volunteered at the clinic where my mom works for an entire summer. I can help with basic triage.” She said, moving forward.

            She didn’t get very far.

            Derek, who Stiles didn’t think could stand up against a gust of wind, was up and moving before Stiles could process what was happening. Stella was up against the wall in a blur, a clawed hand around her neck. Derek’s eyebrows were replaced with raised skin, eyes glowing blood red and fangs dropped. He looked murderous.

            “Derek!” Stiles yelled, jumping up. He moved towards him slowly. “Derek, you need to let her go.”

            “No.” Derek replied, a lisp created by his extended canines. Stella clambered against the alpha’s grip, face turning red, and Derek leaned in to smell her sweater. Stiles heard his dad grabbing his gun. “Smells like them.”

            “Derek, I really don’t want to shoot you.” The sheriff said, holding his gun levelled at the ground and ready to aim at any moment. “But if you don’t get your hands off her I’m gonna pump you so full of bullets you’ll never make it through another metal detector without setting it off.”

            “She’s not safe.” Derek growled. Stiles placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tight.

            “Derek, you need to let her go. She’s been here with us the past two days.” Stiles reasoned, getting into the wolf’s line of sight. He caught the crimson gaze with his whiskey colored eyes, pleading him to hear what he was saying. “Derek, it’s okay. We’re safe, you’re safe. We’ll explain everything.”

            Stella gasped something out the Stiles didn’t catch. “What?”

            “Not…mine…” She bit out. Derek blinked and dropped her unceremoniously. Stella gulped in air, hand resting gingerly on her throat. The sheriff moved forward to help her up while Stiles put a hand on Derek’s chest, urging him away from the girl.

            “Derek, what the hell?” Stiles asked. Derek looked between the two younger humans.

            “Her jacket, it smells like them.” He hissed, pointing at Stella. She just looked back at him.

            “This isn’t my jacket.” She said, voice horrifically shaky. Derek raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s my best friend’s.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

            Stella’s head was swimming and her throat burned. If the man in front of her had reverted to looking like a normal human being, she’d blame his red eyes and warped features on the lack of oxygen making it to her brain. Now, however, her airway was no longer constricted and she still didn’t know what to make of the sight in front of her.

            “What the _fuck_?” She asked, all traces of eloquence flying out the window. Stiles looked between the mutant-man and her, glancing briefly at his dad for help.

            “You know what? Band-aid, just rip it off.” Stiles said, holding an arm out towards the morphed stranger. “Stella, meet Derek. He’s a werewolf.”

            Stella wanted to laugh, she really _really_ did, because that was about as far from her plane of reality as one could get, but she couldn’t deny the proof on the face of the man, Derek, in front of her. What shocked her the most was the fact that she wasn’t afraid. Pissed? Yes. Confused? Absolutely. But when she looked at the wolf, Stella didn’t feel any fear. Anger though, anger she could work with.

            “Why the hell did you just try to use my neck as a stress ball?” She demanded, stepping towards the man. He growled in response.

            “You smell like them,” Derek said, mindfully not stepping forward. “Like the people who kidnapped me from the loft. The people who drugged me with wolfsbane and beat the shit out of me.”

            “Yeah?” Stella said. “Well, that’s impossible unless you were kidnapped by an 18-year-old boy with half your upper body strength. See anyone like that?”

            “I didn’t _see_ anyone.” Derek growled. “They kept me blinded. I smelled them. I smelled _that_.”

            He pointed again to her jacket. Stella shook her head, shrugging out of it and handing it to the wolf.

            “You must be confused.” She said as he inhaled the fabric’s scent deeply. “It’s Jason’s but he just got it, like, a day or two ago from a thrift store. I stole it from him because it was getting colder.”

            “Derek,” The Sheriff said. “There’s got to be a mistake somewhere.”

            “I’ve got to agree with Dad.” Stiles said, hand settling on Derek’s arm. “We’ll call the others for a pack meeting. We’re… going to give the benefit of the doubt.”

            “Thought that was Scott’s thing.” Derek muttered and Stiles snorted.

            “Yeah, well, apparently it’s contagious. You know, maybe you should get a gas mask. I’d hate to see you start having human decency because of a Scott-generated epidemic.”

            Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles, but Stella could tell it was fond. “I’m going to shower. Have clothes I can borrow?”

            “You mean take, because you’re going to stretch them beyond repair with your stupid muscles.” Derek just raised an eyebrow at him. Stiles grinned and threw an arm around his shoulder. “Sure thing, Miguel.”

            Derek paused when he passed Stella. He still looked suspicious, but he handed her the jacket. “I’m… I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

            “Can’t argue with you there.” Stella replied, folding the sweater over her arm. Derek nodded, and that was that.

            Once the two boys had disappeared upstairs, Stella turned to the sheriff. “Obviously something’s going on here and it definitely sounds like your guys’ cup of tea. So, what do we do now?”

            “Now,” Sheriff Stilinski said, pulling out his phone. “You meet the pack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Stella meets the Hale pack! I'm regretting not having Erica and Boyd here, and part of me really wants to bring them back at some point. Maybe I will. Hey, if Peter can drag his snarky, crazy self back from the dead then my two gemstones might have a chance, too.
> 
> Happy reading/suffering!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy! I am uploading out the wazoo here lately!
> 
> So, Stella is going to meet the crazy pack. How will it go? Will there be chaos, bloodshed and destruction? Will Stella make new friends? Will my motivation for school and will to live ever return from the war?
> 
> Two out of three of these questions will be answered in this next chapter, and the other will keep me up tonight, praying for death at 2 am.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!
> 
> -L

Derek, now showered and decidedly less bloody and mangled-looking, shrugged into Stiles’ (Read, _Noah’s_ ) Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department T-shirt. It was large on Stiles, meaning it fit near perfect on Derek’s broad build, Stiles was loathe to admit. The wolf inhaled deeply, and Stiles’ chest warmed when Derek’s face relaxed, slight as it was, because his scent was doing that, clearing the unease on his face, that beautiful face. _Focus Stiles_.

            “So, anything you want to share before the rest of the Brady Bunch shows up?” Stiles asked gently. Derek looked up at him, eyes searching, before shrugging his shoulders.

            “They showed up at the loft while you all were at school. Gassed the entire room with wolfsbane through the vents. It knocked me out and when I woke up I was blindfolded.”

            “I’m sorry.” Stiles blurted, then continued when Derek looked like he might interrupt. “I mean, I know it’s not my fault that you were kidnapped, but I’m still sorry it happened. I know how much taking a wolf’s senses away can affect you guys, and once we figure out what bastards were stupid enough to mess with _our_ pack, I will gladly kick their asses. Except, I’m not super strong and they took down an _alpha_ on their own, so you what? I’ll do you one better. I’ll stand off to the side where it’s safe and cheer you guys on while _you_ kick their asses. I can make signs and put on face paint. I draw the line at the skirt though.”

            “Oh, is that all?” Derek asked, a smirk on his face Stiles mirrored it with his own. “Afraid your figure won’t fill it out right?”

            “My figure would fill it out _fine_ , thank you very much.” He replied, faux heat in his tone and hands on his hips. “Just don’t have the legs for it, you know?”

            Derek didn’t reply, just laughed and Stiles felt something warm settle in his stomach. Derek didn’t laugh much, but it was still more than he used to, and Stiles was glad about that, because Derek had a laugh that matched just about every other aspect of him, which was decidedly _perfect_.

            “It’s fine Stiles.” Derek insisted. “I’m fine now. Let’s just… Demon today, devil tomorrow, okay?

            “Okay.” He replied softly. He settled a hand on the alpha’s shoulder, firm and solid, and Derek released a little more tension. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Der.”

            “Me too.” He said quietly, eyes meeting Stiles’ again. For the first time, Stiles noted the intense green-hazel-gold mixture framed by thick black lashes. _Seriously,_ he thought, _who has eyes like that outside of fictional characters?_

            Stiles was saved from commenting, however, when a cacophony of noise reached his room from downstairs. He raised an eyebrow at Derek, then waved his hand in a _after you_ gesture. The wolf huffed and took the lead.

            The sight before him was almost enough to make him laugh out loud.

            Isaac, Liam and Malia were all standing in the living room, eyes glowing as the scent of a new person invaded their ‘scent sanctuary’, as Stiles had coined it. Jackson, who was back from a weekend trip with his parents, looked somewhere between bored and mildly curious. Stella was standing beside his father, arms crossed and glaring at a fear-stricken Scott, who looked to be making a serious effort to cower behind Kira, slight as she was. Lydia was giving the new girl a scrutinizing once-over, and it occurred to him that Lydia had seen her before. Stiles looked between the two girls and clapped his hands loudly. Derek came to stand beside him, almost shoulder-to-shoulder in height.

            “Derek!” Isaac breathed, relief coating his features. The blonde quickly made his way over, and Derek wrapped a hand around his neck, bringing their foreheads together.

            “Don’t move too fast, he bites.” Stella snarked, and there were more than a few growls echoing through the small room. Key word being _small_ , and very, very breakable. Stiles stepped forward.

            “Okay! Rule one of hanging out with werewolves? Don’t insult the alpha until you reach golden status, like moi, or become a beta of said alpha, which, no. So much no.” He said, then turned to the other in the room. “Rule one of meeting new people? No growling, no biting, and for the love of God, _no_ marking your territory, under any circumstances.”

            “Stiles…” Scott started, glancing between he and Stella. “Maybe you should address the elephant in the room?”

            “I know I’ve been eating my weight in Slim Jims lately, but is that any way to speak to your best friend, who, by the way-“

            “The _elephant_ in the room,” Stella cut off sharply. “Would like a say in the matter, if it so _pleases_ the council.”

            “Who the hell is she?” Jackson quipped, eyebrow raised as if he were asking why a dust bunny had bounced out from under the couch. Stella huffed in annoyance, then gave a blinding smile.

            “Stella Greenly, pleasure.” She said, voice so sweet it was sickly. “Now, who the hell are _you_?”

            “I’m Kira!” The fox smiled brightly, though there was still an innocent hesitance in her brown eyes. “That’s Jackson, he’s not good at being a decent person.”

            That earned a growl from the former kanima, but Kira persisted.

            “This is Liam, Malia and that’s Isaac over there by Derek. This is Scott-“

            “We’ve met.” Stella bit out.

            “-and this is Lydia, she’s a banshee. She’s seen you before, but not really. In a vision, kind of, I think? But don’t worry! She wasn’t peeping! I don’t think. She’s not creepy. Well, unless she’s getting some kind of premonition thing, in which case she gets really creepy _really_ fast-“

            “You’ve seen me?” Stella wondered. Lydia’s expression didn’t change, though her eyes cut to Kira in a way that made Stiles fear for the fox’s safety. _Lock your window tonight, Yukimura._

            “Twice.” She said, chin jutting out.

            “I’m flattered but buy a girl dinner first.” She said coolly. “Chivalry really is dead.”

            “Wow! Talk about horrible first meetings.” Stiles said, and his father looked like he agreed. “Okay, this Stella Greenly, born Bronisawa Stilinski. She’s my sister.”

            No one said anything for a moment. Unsurprisingly, it was Jackson who shattered it.

            “There are _two_ of you?” Stiles huffed at the same time Stella did.

            “Three, actually, asshole.” Stiles muttered, then his eyes widened, and he rubbed the back of his head. “We think. I’m going to have to enlist Danny’s help. Again.”

            “Good luck prying him away from Ethan.” Jackson replied, ignoring Stiles’ comment.

            “Are we going to acknowledge that Derek was kidnapped?” Liam asked. Stiles nodded.

            “Take it away, O Alpha Mine.” He said, moving to stand beside Stella and his father. As Derek recounted the attack, getting taken and escaping, Stiles began to feel an itch deep inside him, like a tickle he couldn’t reach. He started to squirm, getting uncomfortable, and he suddenly realized Stella was, too. Noah shouldered them gently, opening his mouth to say something, but the two Stilinski’s reacted before he could.

            “Fucking- _fuck_.” Stella muttered, running a hand through her hair. Stiles shared the sentiment. The itch was turning into a tug, deep in his center. Derek stopped and looked at them, everyone’s gaze following his. Stella was rubbing her stomach, face pinched, as Stiles shook out his hands, nerves firing far more than they should be.

            “Is something wrong?” Derek asked genuinely, concern written concretely in his expression. Stiles meant to shake his head ‘no’, but the tug was getting stronger, coaxing him towards the front door. He looked to Stella and she was staring at the entrance, too.

Stiles had just taken a step towards the door when a huge crash sounded beside him from the right, shattered glass showering over him and onto the carpet. He threw his hands up to shield his face from the glass, but he needn’t have bothered. A body, much larger than his own, was covering him and taking the impact of the assault.

            “Are you okay?” Stiles asked once silence once again fell upon the Stilinski house. Derek grunted and looked around him, standing and offering a hand when the coast seemed clear. Stiles was hauled up and he looked around him.

            Everyone save for he, Derek, Stella and his dad, had raced towards the hall to avoid the explosion of glass. When he spotted the reason behind the broken window, he tilted his back and shouted at the ceiling.

            “Are you fucking kidding me?” The box Lydia had introduced them all to in Derek’s loft, and which was supposed to be safely stowed away in her room, was now sitting in the middle of his living room floor. Derek quirked a brow at him, and Stella and his dad just looked confused. “Lydia!”

            “That…” She eyed the wooden box as if it had grown legs and was threatening to come after her.

            “I thought you locked it up!” Stiles said, exasperated, but he was confused, too. Wooden objects didn’t fly of their own free will outside of Harry Potter books. Had someone thrown it through his window?

            “She did.” Jackson replied, and for the first time ever, Stiles saw something other than boredom on his face. “I watched her.”

            “Great. So not only does this piece of junk have the ability to move across tables on its own, it’s also taken flying lessons.” Stiles ran a hand through his hair harshly.

            “What is it?” Stella asked.

            “We don’t know.” Lydia answered. “I found it at the loft when I went to check on Derek. It was just sitting there, in the middle of the floor.”

            “Someone left it there.” Derek answered, but Stiles was no longer listening. The box, was it…?

            It was _speaking_ to him. It was as thought someone were whispering directly into his ear, soft and sure, and it took him a moment to realize what it was. Once he did, he almost let out a sob.

            It was his mother’s voice, soft and quiet, and he’d never been happier that he’d listened to his mother and learned the language of their family.

            “Moi trzej, moi kochani.” _My three, my loves._

            “Otwórz, zrozum.” _Open, understand._

            “Proszę zrozumieć.” _Please, understand_. Stella turned towards him, eyebrows furrowed.

            “Matka?” She whispered, and Stiles didn’t even stop to be surprised that she knew Polish as well. He nodded, stepping forward. He was stopped by a hand closing around his shoulder. Derek was shaking his head.

            “You have no idea what that is, Stiles, don’t touch-“

            “Derek, it’s fine.” Stiles replied, shrugging his hand off and moving towards the box again. Stella kneeled beside him as he reached out to it. As he did, the words seemed to become more clear, riding around on the wind that was now whipping through the room.

            “Ziemia, Ogień, woda.” _Earth, fire, water_. Stella was staring at the box as intently as he was, honey-colored eyes glued to the intricate wood. Stiles placed a hand on the box.

            “Przepraszam.” _I’m sorry_. Stiles’ eyes watered as he lifted the top, and his heard his mother’s voice one last time. “Cię kocham.”

 _I love you_.

            The lid hit the floor and the room exploded in a flash of light.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Another chapter! I'm not sure what happened. Whatever, I'm rolling with it.
> 
> This chapter is a bit longer than most of the others because I fluffed it up with some feelings and loootttsss of dialogue (read: sass and sarcasm). I think you'll enjoy it.
> 
> I promise more Sterek is coming your way. It's in the forecast, I swear. And more plot for the next chapter.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> -L

            Stella blinked her eyes open, slowly, and her vision began to clear. The picture that awaited her when her vision came back entirely was not something she would have expected.

They were still in the Stilinski house, and the rest of Stiles’ pack was scattered about the place. Scott, Derek and the Sheriff were all pressed up against the wall nearest the twins. Lydia was being shielded by Jackson. Liam and Malia were a heap of limbs in the entrance between the foyer and the living room. Isaac was huddled down into the wall, arms beginning to lower from where they had covered his face. But Stella could only notice any of this in the farthest part of her mind, because at that present moment she was staring at herself.

Covered in flames.

They were everywhere, a shocking brilliant orchestra of orange and yellow. It danced around her almost as if to a beat, pulsing around her legs and curving up around her upper body. She should have been batting them away, screaming for someone to put them out, but she knew they wouldn’t hurt her. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but those flames had come from _inside_ her. She looked at Stiles and gasped.

The pale, slightly taller boy was covered in flowers and vines. Grass was sprouting at his feet, little daisies popping up around his shoes. He looked shocked, but like Stella he didn’t look scared. There was a light breeze that seemed to envelop him, not unlike the inferno that was encasing Stella.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she turned to see Scott holding a bright red fire extinguisher. Her eyes traveled farther, over to where the Alpha, the big bad Derek Hale was moving towards Stiles in a rush.

He looked terrified. His eyes were bright red, his cheek bones were gnarled and his eyebrows absent. He wrapped an arm around a stunned Stiles’ waist and hauled him away from her, growling menacingly.

Stella was distracted by a steady flow of carbon dioxide hitting her square in the chest. She spluttered, shocked, and raised her hands to keep it away from her face. The attack continued for several seconds before it was suddenly gone. She wiped at the foam covering her eyes, glaring at the perpetrator. Scott grinned sheepishly and shrugged a shoulder.

“We’re not big fans of fire around here.” Stella raised her eyebrows.

“No shit.” She lifted her feet and saw there was no damage to the carpet, no scorch marks. She looked back at Scott. “They weren’t doing anything. They weren’t hurting me.”

“Okay.” Noah rubbed at his face with his hands and uncovered it, eyes weary and tired. “Does someone want to explain to me why the hell my two kids just erupted in flames and summoned Mother Nature, respectively?”

“Hey!” Stella said, looking at Stiles who was still being held a safe distance away by Derek. “Stiles literally started growing shrubbery and became a human greenhouse. Are you going to douse him with Weed-Be-Gone?”

“No! There will be no dousing.” Stiles said, shaking his head. He turned it towards the wolf standing right beside him, eyes still crimson and features still morphed. “Hey, big guy, nothing happened. Everyone’s safe, no one’s hurt. It was just… just a- a something, that I’m not entirely sure of, but it’s all right. You need to bring it in, Der.”

Stella wanted to snort, because Derek was the definition of ‘Big Bad Wolf’. Wikipedia probably had a picture of him in any and all references to Little Red Riding Hood. But, to her surprise, Derek _did_ start to bring it in.

His eyes went back to their green-gold-blue abstract, his massive brows grew back into place and his, as much as Stella hated to admit it, _gorgeous_ face smoothed out. He nodded at Stiles, who smiled, patted his arm, and began walking towards Stella.

“Pops, I think that is the million-dollar question. As it is, I have four dollars in my pocket and no answer to it.” He clapped his hands together, turning between Stella and Noah. “Who fancies a field trip to see our favorite witch doctor?”

“You mean the quack at the vet office?” Jackson’s face twisted in distaste, and Scott grinned.

“Dude, he just in a litter of new puppies. They’re little Alaskan Malamutes, and they’re-“

“You can show us when we get there, buddy.” Stiles smiled, and Stella understood now why it was Scott he had brought into her hotel room the previous night. He was a puppy, for all intents and purposes, but there was fierce loyalty between the two. Stella knew they balanced each other out, just like she and Jason.

 _Jason_. Stella sighed at herself as she withdrew her phone from her pocket. Sure enough, there were 8 new texts, 3 missed calls and just as many voicemails from ‘J-Man’. She looked at Stiles and nodded.

“I’ll follow you. I have to make a call.” She said, and Stiles nodded.

“I’ll drive-“

“No.” Derek said. His face was normal, but his shoulders were still tense. “I’ll drive. Stiles, Liam, Isaac, Malia, you’re with me. Jackson, you take Lydia. Scott, you’ve got your bike with you, right?”

Scott nodded, as did everyone else, and Stella blinked. _Shit_ , she thought to herself, _he really_ is _the alpha. No wonder Stiles wants to bone._

“Fine, I get shotgun!” Stiles shouted, yanking the box from the ground with little hesitation, which honestly scared Stella. There was no explosion, so she didn’t say anything. Derek rolled his eyes as Stiles and Isaac raced out the door. Stiles tossed his keys to his father as he ran by. “Drive her for me! Watch the clutch, it sticks!”

As everyone began to file out of the house, Noah caught Stella’s shoulder. She turned to him, watching as his expression changed tired and weary, to tired, weary and apologetic.

“Listen, Stella, I know you started this a couple days ago because you just wanted to know where you came from. Curiosity, as it is, is a strong gene in the Stilinski genetic pool.” He sighed, blue eyes meeting hers. “You didn’t sign up for this, and I’m sorry you’re getting roped into it. Just- I’m sorry.”

Stella nodded, not sure how to reply. Noah nodded, then began his way over to the Jeep she’d seen parked out front when she arrived. She wondered why they had it, the old battered metal box on wheels that, when the Sheriff started it, sounded as though it was getting ready for take-off at a NASA launch site. She made a mental note to ask about it later, then thought about how closed off Stiles had been when he very first found out about her and decided she wouldn’t pry, at least not anytime soon.

She got into her car, starting it and turning the radio setting to Bluetooth. She dialed Jason’s number, pulling out behind the blue Jeep as it rang. He picked up on the second ring.

“Christ Stella.” He huffed, and although he sounded frazzled and stressed, Stella smiled. He was way too of a friend to be stuck with her. And yet. “You couldn’t answer my texts? My calls? I was going out of my fucking _mind_ , do you get that?”

“Jason,” Stella began, somewhat dumbstruck. Jason rarely cursed, and it was _never_ at Stella or in reference to Stella or in a manner that even concerned her and Jesus that gave her pause. “I’m sorry. The service really is spotty here, but I had my phone on silent.”

“Why?” He asked. “You always have your phone on loud because you lose it so much.”

“I met them.” She said, voice growing quiet. She and Noah were stopped at a red light, and she ran a hand through her hair. “My dad, and my brother.”

“You did?” Jason’s voice had gone from high-strung to calm and questioning in a matter of seconds. God, Stella didn’t deserve him. “What are they like? Are they assholes?”

“Well, Stiles certainly is. He’s my brother.” She noted, gratefully, that Jason didn’t comment on the fact that she hadn’t mentioned her biological mother. “He and his best friend broke into my hotel room the first night I was here.”

“They _what_?” Jason’s voice was high again, and Stella hurried to explain.

“Don’t worry, I decked his friend with a metal bowl. Totally badass, if I do say so myself.” She grinned. “But it was a misunderstanding. He wanted to know why some random girl had shown up asking about his dead mom-“

She paused, realizing what she’d said. The light turned green and she pressed on the gas to keep up with the Jeep. Shaking her head, she continued.

“He’s the suspicious, guilty-until-proven-innocent, shoot first ask later types.”

“Shoot? Did they have guns? Jesus _Christ_ , I’m coming down.”

“No, they didn’t have guns!” She replied. “Well, my dad does but he’s the Sheriff here, so.”

“I don’t care. I’m coming down there.” He sounded determined, and Stella wanted to say yes. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her hotel bed with Jason and a tub of Moose Tracks and tell him about how batshit crazy her last 24 hours had been. But then she remembered Derek and how he reacted to Jason’s cardigan and she decided he needed to stay right where he was, where he was _safe_.

“No!” Stella lowered her voice after shouting. “Listen, everything is fine here. There were some misunderstandings at first, but everything is okay. My dad, Stiles, they’re good people. Honestly, you don’t need to worry. And I swear I’ll keep my phone on loud from here on out, okay?”

“Stella-“ Jason sounded torn.

“Jason, I just need a little more time here, with them. They-“ The words ‘ _they are apparently other-worldly and hang out with werewolves and she caught on fire while Stiles basically shit flowers’_ , died in her throat. “They’re nice, and they have photos of my mom and stories. I just want to get to know them Jace, okay? Please, just stay there and cover for me for another day, two max.”

“Call me tonight. I don’t care how late it is, call me. And please, every once in a while, answer a text, okay?”

“I promise Jay,” Stella smiled. She followed the Jeep into a parking lot outside a building that read ‘Beacon Hills Animal Clinic’. “Hey, I’ve got to go, but I swear I will call you later.”

“Fine. Love you, Stell.”

“Back at you, J-Man.” She hung up and climbed out of her car, walking behind Noah into the clinic. Why they were at a clinic, specifically and _animal_ clinic, right now was beyond Stella, but she entered none the less. Noah led them behind the counter, to what looked like an exam room.

The rest of the pack was there. Jackson and Lydia both looked bored now, standing off to the side of the room. Malia and Liam were sitting on a counter, Isaac standing in front of the former’s legs. Scott was standing beside a dark-skinned man with kind eyes and a cryptic smile. She saw Derek swat at Stiles’ hand when he went to grab something from the counter. Stiles huffed but turned away from it. He caught sight of the newest arrivals and clapped his hands, something Stella was becoming familiar with. It must be his version of slamming a gavel.

“Alright! Stella, this is Deaton, resident riddle-speaker and Celtic witch doctor. Deaton, my long-lost sister Stella.” Stella snorted in lieu of a greeting.

“A bunch of werewolves, a Sheriff, a witch doctor and two unknowns walk into an animal clinic.” She looked at Stiles. “Sounds like the beginning of a really bad joke.”

“The joke is our lives, apparently.” Stiles muttered in response. He pointed to the wooden box sitting on the metal exam table, looking ominous in contrast with the clinical minimalism of the steel. “Synopsis: Stella showed up at the house. Box showed up at the house and started speaking in Polish. We opened box, passed out because the thing _exploded_ with light which, to those with hyper senses, I’m really sorry- that shit was _bright_ -“

“Stiles.” Derek stopped him, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Right! So, we woke up, and Stella was on fire and I had flowers growing around my feet.” He raised his hands and rubbed them together. “So, diagnosis?”

Deaton was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke his voice was low and mysterious. “Na trì toraidhean.”

“Gesundheit.” Scott replied, and Derek slapped a hand to his face. He rubbed his forehead for a moment before looking up at the vet.

“Celtic, right?”

“Correct, Mr. Hale.” He said. They waited for further explanation, but none was given.

“Is he broken?” She asked. Stiles snorted. “Should we use Google translate? What the hell does it mean?”

“You know what it means, you just don’t recognize it.” Deaton elaborated, which was still just as cryptic as it was before. Stella looked at Stiles, and he looked back.

“You know what he’s talking about?” Stella shook her head, looking back to Deaton. The vet had a small smile on his face.

“You may know it as ‘trzy orły’.” Stiles sputtered, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what the man was talking about.

“’The three eagles?” Stella wondered aloud. Stiles looked at her, then back at Deaton.

“What does that have to do with _anything_?” Stiles asked. Noah frowned.

“Isn’t that the story from when you were little?” He asked, and Stiles nodded.

“The one Mom told me, like, all the time.” Isaac raised his hand as if he were in a class room, asking for the teacher’s attention.

“Might be the only one lost here, but what the hell do three eagles have to do with our current issue? You remember, the fire, the flowers.” He waved his hand around the room. “I was there, you all were there. Ring a bell?”

“Isaac, please stop talking.” Lydia finally spoke, straightening up before walking towards the center of the room and facing Deaton. “Listen, Deaton. If you know something, you need to tell us. No cryptic bullshit today, no riddles. Just tell us everything you know about the box and whatever happened to Stella and Stiles. We don’t have time for your games today, and quite frankly, I’m not in the mood for fucking around. So unless you want me so frustrated I have to _scream_ ,” She said it like a threat, “I suggest you start talking, and you do it now.”

Everyone stared, open-mouthed, at the red-head who was still holding Deaton’s gaze. After what seemed like an eternity to Stella, he sighed and faced the two Stilinski’s in question.

“You know the story of the three eagles, yes?” Deaton asked, and Stiles nodded as if to say _Yeah, that was established_. “Eagles in Poland are very symbolic, and there are many stories that stem from different perceptions of the bird and what it really represents. And, as you all have come to find, legends hold truth, if only a little.”

“Yeah, unfortunately we’ve gotten pretty familiar with that little life lesson.” Stiles grumbled, and Derek elbowed him.

“As it is, this tale is no different. Can you tell everyone the gist of it?” Stiles sighed but nodded all the same.

“Basically, there were two Gods, Perun and Veles who were both in love with the same Goddess, Ognyena Maria. The two Gods fought for years over her, constantly going after each other.

“Finally, Ognyena put a stop to it. She knew she was meant to be with Perun, but she still loved Veles. So, to stop the fighting and please both of them, she stayed with Perun but gave Veles three children, which were actually eagles because Gods are weird.

“They were meant to represent the three things that he ruled over. Fire for the Underworld, nature for earth and water for, well, water. She gave them to him as a peace offering, an olive branch, so he could keep a piece of her with him. But Perun found out and, because he’s a _dick_ , apparently, he went and ruined all of it.

“He turned the eagles into humans banished them to the earth under a cloak of magic and separated them so Veles couldn’t reach them. And they grew up and had kids, got old, all the things that make life grand.” Stiles finished with a shrug, looking back at Deaton. “So, what’s that got to do with anything, Doc?”

“That is very close to the thing that actually happened.” Deaton replied. “But not exact. You see, the three children were banished to earth under a cloak of magic, but they weren’t separated. They were siblings who were all raised together.”

“Let me guess, two brothers and a sister?” Stella wondered, and Deaton nodded.

“Correct Stella.” He answered. “Those three siblings grew up together, learned magic and how to control the elements. They lived in a place called Gniezno under the name Sławiński.”

“You have got to be _fucking_ kidding me.” Stiles breathed, and Derek was suddenly beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. Stiles sighed, mimicking Derek’s earlier action and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not a coincidence that the name sounds a whole hell of a lot like Stilinski, is it?”

“I’m afraid not Stiles. It was probably changed here and there in regard to dialect but yes, there’s a reason your surname sounds much like it.” Deaton replied, and he at least looked apologetic. Stella shook her head.

“Okay, so what? Are they our ancestors?” She asked. Deaton shrugged.

“More or less. There is magic in the name, Sławiński. It means ‘glory and fame’. Back then, glory came from fighting and fame was magic.” Deaton looked at Stiles, then at Stella. “I believe that magic descended through your family’s lineage until it found a time and person worthy of bearing three half-Gods.”

“Half-Gods?” Stella asked. She shook her head. “First werewolves, then witch doctors, now you’re telling us we’re half God? This is insane, it’s crazy. I came here to find my biological family, just to see what… and I get this? What the _hell_ is wrong with this town?”

“Stella, I apologize for the abrupt shift in reality. It can be jarring, I understand. But this magic, it’s old. When you came to Beacon Hills, when you found Stiles and you found that box, that magic started to cement itself.

“It will grow and become stronger, and you’ll need to be able to control it. That will take time and practice, and until you find the third sibling, the magic will be unstable. It won’t find its center until the three of its parts are reunited.”

“So, what, I’m stuck here until we find a brother who we don’t know, who’s in a place we don’t know, who is going to think we’re _nuts_ , by the way. Is that right?”

“Yes.” Deaton replied, bluntly. Stella threw her hands up and felt frustration bubble up inside her chest. How could he be so non-cholent? Her entire world was just flipped upside down and hurled at a fucking _wall_ , and he honestly couldn’t be less bothered. Stella could see red, she was so mad, and her hands started shaking.

She saw Stiles move forward, only to be stopped by Derek who was, of course, totally wolfed out. That only fueled her anger. This werewolf who had thrown her against a wall and tried to strangle her in lieu of an introduction. If he hadn’t shown up, maybe she could have left and this shitstorm wouldn’t have even started.

“Stella…” A voice called her name, but she could barely here it over the rush of blood in her ears. She was so _mad_ , she’d never been this mad in her life. But right now? Right now, she was furious. Her skin was hot, and her vision was homing in on the vet, the main source of the rage curling in her gut. “Stella!”

Suddenly she was freezing, shaking as water drenched her from head to toe. She blinked droplets from her eyes, wiping at them with her hands. She looked around and there was Scott, holding a now empty bucket, but there was no grin this time. He looked…scared.

“We really, _really_ don’t like fire.” He said, glancing behind her. She turned and saw Stiles speaking in low tones to Derek, who looked as murderous as she’d felt moments ago. Maybe Scott should throw water on _him_.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

“It’s fine, Der. You’re here, okay? You’re safe, I’m safe, the pack is safe.” Derek didn’t look convinced to Stiles, and he could understand why. Watching and hearing your entire family burn to death in a fire? Grade-A trauma. Stiles would lose it every time he saw fire, too, especially around the only people he actually cares about. Stiles decided on a different approach. _Reach for the human Derek_. “It was a false alarm. Like when the smoke detector went off that time I burned those waffles black.”

“Pancakes.” Derek said tightly. Stiles smiled, because he knew that would do the trick.

“They were pancakes. And now I make waffles.” Derek breathed through his nose, and Stiles patted his chest twice and the turned, his back toward Derek. He didn’t move away, so his shoulders were just barely touching Derek’s chest. “Stella, I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Derek growled from behind him. Stiles swatted a hand at him without intent.

“Hush, Mr. Growly Wolf.” He returned his attention to the girl front of them, who was starting to shiver. “Dad, do you have your jacket with you? I think Scott used cold water.”

“Yeah.” Noah raced out the door, returning a few moments later with his Sheriff’s jacket in hand. He shrugged it over her shoulders and Stella wrapped it tighter around herself, muttering a small ‘thank you’. Noah’s phone rang, and he stepped into the waiting room to answer it.

“I really am sorry. I don’t-“ He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face the way his father did a lot, usually because of him. “I didn’t want anyone else to get mixed up in this and now you’re mixed up in it and-“

He stopped, and he carded his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, because it sucks. I’m not sure where you live, or where you grew up or what kind of life you have, but this? This is our life. This is basically a normal day to us, and we’re used to this kind of crazy. You’re not. We probably should have a little more compassion,” He threw a glance at Deaton. “but this kind of stuff, as shitty as it is, doesn’t leave room for choice. It just is. So, I’m sorry, I really am.”

Stella stared at him for several moments, and Stiles held her gaze. The thing was, before everything started going to shit, he thought Scott getting turned was the coolest thing ever. After Peter, Jackson, the alpha pack and- _that_ \- he was pretty much fed up with it.

But having powers? Stiles was thrilled at the prospect. He wouldn’t have to sit on the sidelines and be the breakable human. He could fight, he could _help_. At the same time, he could understand why Stella would be frustrated, angry even. It made sense. So he kept looking at her, and she kept looking at him.

Noah returned, apologizing. “They need me at the station. Something about power outages or something. It’s chaos. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go in.”

“It’s okay Dad. We’ve got this.” Noah looked at him, then at Stella, and back again.

“You kids be careful, alright?”

“Always. Love you!” He said to his father’s back, who responded in kind. Stiles’ gaze fell on Stella’s again.

Finally, she wiped at her eyes, which were covered in something other than the water Scott had used on her. Her voice was shaky when she said, “Okay. What do we do?”

“Well, opening the box seemed to further awaken your power. Perhaps you should try that again?” Isaac raised his hand again, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“This isn’t goddamn class Isaac. You don’t have to raise your hand.” Isaac lowered his hand and grinned.

“Can I be excused? Because last time you guys opened that box, I was almost fucking blinded, and I like my eyesight just fine the way it is in case you were wondering.”

“We weren’t.” Stiles muttered. “Just go sit in the waiting room or something. Have Scott show you the puppies.”

“ _Dude_.” Scott started, leading Isaac out of the room. Liam, Malia and Kira followed suit. “They’re so cute, you’re gonna _die_.”

“Why?” Stiles asked Derek, who looked back in question. “Puppies. You have a pack of _puppies_ , tiny, soft puppies. And then there’s Isaac, who’s the asshole puppy that chews on everyone’s shoes and poops everywhere but outside.”

Derek tilted his head to the side, as if listening for something no one else could hear. He grinned at Stiles. “Isaac says he’s certifiably potty-trained and he only chews on your shoes.”

“I hate you so much.” Stiles said under his breath. “Isaac? I’m burning your scarves. All of them. Tonight. _Yesterday_. Consider it _done_ you little shit.”

Derek listened, then frowned, then _growled_. “I don’t think so.” He cocked his head again, then smirked. “Better. Now shut up or you’re doing perimeter for a week. With Jackson.”

“That was cruel.” Stiles said, grinning. “He probably also deserved it.”

“Can we focus?” Lydia asked. Stiles glanced at her, still standing with Jackson.

“Don’t want to see the puppies?” Stiles asked, and it was genuine. If he wasn’t directly involved, _he’d_ be in there playing with puppies.

“I have a dog. And dogs hate Jackson.” Jackson looked put off by this, if only minutely.

“Try using the wolf eyes instead of the kanima ones.” Stiles offered. “Alaskan Malamutes are really closely related to wolves, maybe they’ll respond better than Prada.”

“Whatever.” Jackson said, walking out of the room. Lydia stayed put, and Stiles shrugged. Her vision, her problem. He turned back to Deaton.

“Alright Doc.” Stiles smiled at the veterinarian. “Let’s get down to business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleeeaassseee leave comments. They give me life, guys. Like, literally fill a void in my soul. So, please? Leave a comment about what you wanna see, what you think is going to happen, yada yada yada. I just love hearing from you guys, it nourishes my inner writer.
> 
> Also, kudos if you like it! Kudos if you don't! Kudos make me feel good so please leave some.


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